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BUSINESS, COMMERCE AND FINANCE 



PRINCIPLES OF 

POLITICAL ECONOMY 

ALBERT H. PUTNEY, A. B., D. C.L., LL.D. 

Author of "Government in the United States," "Law Library," "United States 
Constitutional History and Law," etc.; Member of the Chicago Bar. 



SOCIOLOGY 



BY 



HUBERT M. SKINNER, PH.D. 

Editor of "Collegiate Course" 



CREE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

MllfNEAPOLIS CHICAGO SEATTLE 



n^ 




Copyright, 1909 

BY 

CEEE PUBLISHING COMPANY 



Copyrighted and Eegistered at Stationers' Hall, London, 

England, by Cree Publishing Company, 

Chicago, Illinois, IT. S. A. 

1909 



All rights reserved 



Amer. Un'v.Grrcu^... School 
Feb.lA, I9c3 



CONTENTS 



POLITICAL ECONOMY 



Chaptee I. Introductory 11 

Section 1. Definition 11 

Section 2, Production . . . .- 12 

Section 3. Distribution 13 

Section 4. Consumption 13 

Section 5. Exchange 13 

Section 6. Subdivisions of Political Economy 13 

Chapter II. Productions 15 

Section 7. Production Defined 15 

Section 8. Utilities 15 

Section 9. Wants 18 

Section 10. Factors in Production 18 

Section 11. Land 19 

Section 13. Labor 30 

Section 13. Application of Labor 33 

Section 14. The Law of Diminishing Eeturns from 

Labor 34 

Section 15. The Malthusian Doctrine 37 

Section 16. Division of Labor 31 

Chapter III. Distribution 35 

Section 17. Scope of this Division 35 

Section 18. Importance of this Division 35 

Section 19. Combination of Different Economic Char- 
acters in Same Person 37 

Section 30. Eent 38 

5 



6 CONTENTS 

Section 21. Interest 41 

Section 22. Wages 42 

Section 23. Profits 44 

Section 34. Class Controversies 45 

Section 25. Labor Unions 45 

Section 26. Monopolies, and Trusts 50 

Section 27. Socialism 51 

Section 28. Taxation 54 

Section 29. Income Taxes 59 

Section 30. Protective Tariffs 71 

Chapter IV. Consumption 75 

Section 31. Place of Consumption in the Study of Po- 
litical Economy 75 

Section 32. Wants and Utilities 76 

Section 33. Diminishing Utility and Marginal Utility. 77 

Section 34. Eelative Utility 81 

Section 35. Order of Consumption — Necessaries, Com- 
forts, Luxuries 82 

Section 36. Postponed Consumption 84 

Section 37. Effects of Savings Upon Production and 

Distribution 85 

Chapter V. Exchange 87 

Section 38. Definitions 87 

Section 39. What Determines Value 87 

Section 40. Mediums of Exchange 89 

Chapter VI. Economic History 91 

Section 41. Periods of Economic History 91 

Section 42. Economic History of Various Countries and 

Ages 95 

Section 43. Modern Industry 137 



CONTENTS 



SOCIOLOGY 

Sociology and the Social Sciences 145 

What Sociology Purposes To Do 151 

Social Units, Groups, Aggregates, and Organs 156 

Method of Sociological Study 160 

Subjects to be Studied by Observation and Investigation 161 

Notable Books of Sociology 164 

The Perversion of Social Institutions 166 

An Industrial Basis for Social Interpretation 171 

A Sociological Generalization — The Eeaction of Moral Instruc- 
tion Upon Social Eeform 174 

A Sociological Institution — The Eussell Sage Foundation, and 

Its Initial Activities 183 

The Scope 185 

Early Activities 187 

Prevention of Tuberculosis 187 

Playground Extension 189 

Care of Children 190 

Children's School Gardens 190 

Charity Organization Extension 190 

Prevention of Blindness 191 

Eesearch 191 

Schools for Social Workers 193 

Publications 193 

7 



8 CONTENTS 

Housing 194 

Other Activities 195 

An Adaptable Foundation 195 

An Illustration of Sociological Methods — Charity Eelief and 

Wage Earnings 197 

Number, Nativity, and Size of the Families 202 

The Average Size of the Families Eeceiving Eelief 205 

Age and Conjugal Conditions 206 

Occupations 208 

Earnings of Charity Eecipients 212 

Delinquencies of Charity Eecipients 218 

Causes of Distress of Charity Eecipients 224 

Immediate Causes of Distress 228 

Contributing or Indirect Causes of Distress 237 

Persistent Causes of Distress 240 

Summary 245 

Social Science and Social Schemes 253 

I. Sociology 253 

II. The Units 265 

III. The Combinations 278 

IV. Equality 289 

V. Dreamlands 300 

VI. Progress and Poverty 319 

VII. Looking Forward 330 



ELEMENTS OF 

POLITICAL ECONOMY 



BY 



ALBERT H. PUTNEY, A. B., D. C. L., LL. D. 

Author of "Government in the United States," "Law Library," "United States 
Constitutional History and Law. ' ' Member of the Chicago Bar. 



r\. 



CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

Section 1. Definition. 

Political Economy or Economics may be briefly 
described as the science of wealth, or as to the science 
of utilities. By the term * utilities' is meant what- 
ever will tend to furnish mankind with the necessi- 
ties for his existence, or which promote his comfort 
or happiness. This last statement should be under- 
stood as meaning whatever a person believes is for 
his comfort or happiness. The wisdom of the desire 
of mankind, or any portion thereof, for any article 
is one which does not properly fall within the sphere 
of Political Economy. The true scope of this sub- 
ject is a material one and a better understanding of 
its problems can be secured if this fact is recognized 
at the outset and no attempt made by the writers 
thereon to encroach upon the field of sociology, 
ethics, psychology or law. 

Political Economy has been briefly described 
above as the science of wealth and utility. More 
exactly, political economy is that science which treats 
of the production, distribution, consumption and ex- 
change of utilities. Production, Distribution, Con- 
sumption and Exchange are the four great divisions 
of the subject of Political Economy. 

11 



12 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Section 2. Production. 

Production is the creation of utilities. It is im- 
possible for man to create new matter. The ultimate 
raw materials for all production is furnished by na- 
ture, but very little matter in its original state is of 
utility to man. The function of production is to 
change matter to such a state that it become useful. 
Production is something more than change of form. 
UtiHty may also be created by a change in place 
or by preservation to another time. Production will 
be subject of Chapter II of this voliune. 

Section 3. Distribution. 

The first step, that of production, having been 
passed, the question next arises as to the distribu- 
tion of the utilities produced. In the study of pro- 
duction, it will be seen that three great agencies 
enter into the work of production — land, labor and 
capital, to which is sometimes added the work of 
the entrepreneur. The problem of that portion of 
study of political economy devoted to distribution 
is the determination of the proper share of the land- 
lord, the capitalist, the laborer and the entrepreneur 
respectively. Distribution will be the subject of 
Chapter IH of this volume. 

Section 4. Consumption. 

The final stage in the history of utilities is to be 
found in their consumption. The consumption of 
utilities in the main falls outside of the scope of po- 



INTEODUCTOEY. 13 

litical economy. In so far, however, as consumption 
exerts a reflex action on production, distribution and 
exchange, it must be considered in any work on po- 
litical economy. Consiunption will be the subject of 
Chapter IV of this volume. 

Section 5. Exchange. 

The utility of any article is not universal. It only 
exists where there is a correlative want on the part 
of the individual. A person may thus be the owner 
of an article possessing utility to another person but 
not to himself, or be possessed of a superfluity of 
certain utilities, while totally in need of others. 
From such state of facts arise the phenomena of ex- 
change. At the present time this constitutes a most 
important and complicated branch of the science of 
political economy. Exchange will be the subject of 
the fifth chapter of this volume. 

Section 6. Subdivisions of Political Economy. 

Although the proper field of political economy is 
narrower than that assigned to it by some writers on 
the subject, it is nevertheless very broad, and many 
of its subdivisions are frequently treated as subjects 
by themselves. This policy has been followed in this 
series, for example. Banking and Currency, falling 
under the head of exchange, are made the special 
subjects of a separate volume. 



CHAPTER n. 
PRODUCTION. 

Section 7. Production Defined. 

The creation of new matter is beyond the power 
of man. Strictly speaking all matter exists natu- 
rally and it is only possible for man to change its 
form or place, or to preserve it, which latter is equiva- 
lent to changing its time of existence. Nearly all 
matter, however, in its natural form is unsuited for 
use of man. Human labor is expended upon matter 
BO as to render it available for use by mankind. 
Production, therefore, is the production of utilities, 
not of materials. 

Section 8. Utilities. 

The important use of the term utilities in the 
study of political economy renders it important that, 
at the outset, the student should acquire a clear and 
comprehensive idea of the meaning of this term and 
of its uses. Students of the law are generally more 
or less confused at the outset in their attempt to 
imderstand the term ^'real property,'' by the fact 
that this term is applied indiscriminately to the tan- 
gible property itself and to intangible interests 
therein. A somewhat similar confusion is to be 
found in the use of the term ** utilities" in political 

15 



16 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

economy. This word has been obliged to do double 
duty as describing either tangible property or in- 
tangible qualities therein; and, although the context 
should show the sense in which the term is used in a 
particular case, the dual character of the term ren- 
ders very difficult the task of framing a definition 
therefor, which shall be at the same time concise and 
accurate. 

Attempting, however, a definition, it may be said 
that utilities are either tangible objects whose use 
or consumption tend to satisfy human wants, or those 
qualities, in such objects, on account of which such 
ob j ects tend to satisfy such wants. In those branches 
of political economy which deal with consumption, 
distribution or exchange, the term is used in the first 
sense, but in that branch of the science which deals 
with production the true meaning of the term as 
used is that found in the second clause of the 
definition. 

Jevons in his masterly work on *'The Theory of 
Political Economy" (pp. 37-39) avoids this confu- 
sion by using the name commodity in place of utility 
wherever the term is used in its first given meaning. 

**It is desirable to introduce at once, and to de- 
fine, some terms which facilitate the expression of 
the Principles of Economics. By a commodity we 
shall understand any object, substance, action or 
service, which can afford pleasure or ward off pain. 
The name was originally abstract, and denoted the 
quality of anything which was capable of serving 
man. Having acquired, by a common process of con- 
fusion, a concrete signification, it will be well to re- 
tain the word entirely for that signification, and 



PEODUCTION 17 

employ the term utility to denote the abstract quality 
whereby an object serves our purposes, and becomes 
entitled to rank as a commodity. Whatever can pro- 
duce pleasure or prevent pain may possess utility. 
J. B. Say has correctly and briefly defined utility as 
'la faculte qu'ont les choses de pouvoir servir a 
rhomme, de quelque maniere que ce soit.' The food 
which prevents the pangs of hunger, the clothes 
which fend off the cold of winter, possess incontest- 
able utility; but we must beware of restricting the 
meaning of the word by any moral considerations. 
Anything which an individual is found to desire and 
to labor for must be assumed to possess for him util- 
ity. In the science of Economics we treat men not 
as they ought to be, but as they are. Bentham in 
establishing the foundations of Moral Science in his 
great Introduction to the Principles of Morals and 
Legislation (page 3) thus comprehensively defines 
the term in question: *By utility is meant that 
property in any object, whereby it tends to produce 
benefit, advantage, pleasure, good, or happiness (all 
this, in the present case, comes to the same thing), 
or (what comes against to the same thing) to pre- 
vent the happening of mischief, pain, evil, or unhap- 
piness to the party whose interest is considered.' 

This perfectly expresses the meaning of the word 
in Economics, provided that the will or inclination 
of the person immediately concerned is taken as the 
sole criterion, for the time, of what is or is not 
useful." 

This use of the term 'commodity' instead of 
'utility' by Jevons, has the advantage of far greater 



18 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

clearness, the method of expression by certain other 
writers, and will be followed in this work. 

Section 9. Wants. 

It being now seen that commodities are those ar- 
ticles and utilities which satisfy human wants, it 
now remains to be determined what are human 
wants. In this connection it is well to repeat a 
clause from the citation from Jevons in the last sec- 
tion and say that *'the will or inclination of the per- 
son immediately concerned is taken as the sole 
criterion.'' The moral aspects of the question, or 
the ultimate effect of the satisfaction of a want, lie 
outside of the field of Political Economy. Any com- 
modity, so far as this science is concerned, must be 
held to possess utility, so long as it satisfies any 
human desire, or so long as any human being believes 
that it does or can do so. Wants will be treated more 
fully under the head of Consumption. 

Section 10. Factors in Production. 

The three principal factors in production are 
land, labor, and capital. 

Land, as the term is used in this connection, has 
a very broad significance, including water, minerals, 
forests, oil, gases, etc. In short, under this term 
are to be found all the great stores of raw material 
furnished by nature for the satisfaction of human 
wants, and as the basis for human labor. 

Labor includes human activities of every sort, 
which are expended in the effort to satisfy human 
wants. 



PEODUCTION 19 

In the very earliest stages of human industry 
production was effected through the combined 
efforts of these two factors alone; very soon, how- 
ever, man found that he could greatly increase his 
ef&ciency and the quantities of commodities pro- 
duced by him, by abstaining from the consumption 
of a portion of the total amount of commodities which 
he had produced, and by using the commodities which 
he had thus saved, to aid him in his production of 
further commodities. This was the origin of capital. 

A fourth factor should perhaps be added to this 
list, consisting of the work of the entrepreneur, as 
this class of men, by securing greater efficiency in the 
application and combination of the other factors, 
increase the total production of the community. 

Section 11. Land. 

The private ownership of land is essentially 
different, in many respects, from that in other forms 
of property. The original basis for ownership of 
personal property was the labor expended upon its 
production by its owner, the original basis for own- 
ership of land was the simple act of its appropri- 
ation. In most cases at the present time this distinc- 
tion would not hold good when viewed from the 
standpoint of the present holder of property, either 
real or personal. In the greater number of cases the 
method of acquisition has been that by purchase. 
Still the original difference still remains in its effects, 
although not to be noticed in each individual case. 

The difference between the two species of prop- 
erty is to be discerned in the method by which their 



30 POLITICAL ECOKOMY 

values are determined. Values of all kinds of prop- 
erty are immediately determined by the relation be- 
tween supply and demand, but in the case of per- 
sonal property the supply is variable as well as the 
demand, and is largely determined by the amount of 
labor required to reproduce the articles. In the case 
of real property, the supply is absolutely fixed by 
nature^ and only the demand is variable; the tend- 
ency for the demand for land being to steadily 
increase. 

Section 12. Labor. 

Labor includes every species of himaan activity 
performed with the intention of satisfying any 
human want. Labor is divided into physical and 
mental labor. The exact dividing line between these 
two is not always as easy to trace as it would seem at 
first thought. Li fact it is impossible to conceive of 
any labor which would not to a certain extent in- 
volve both physical and mental exertion. The work 
of those in such professions as those of the law, medi- 
cine, the ministry, or literature, are generally 
thought of as requiring merely mental exertion, but 
no man in any of these professions could go through 
a day's work without a certain amount of physical 
labor. On the other hand, the most unskilled laborer 
digging ditches in the street could not perform this 
simplest kind of physical labor without the exercise 
of a slight degree of mental exertion. 

•The supply of land may be increased in a sense by increasing tae 
utility of certain land, as, for instance, where desert land is made arable 
by irrigation, or where preTiously inaccessible land is "opened up" by the 
building of a new railroad. The fact remains, nevertheless, that the area 
of the earth's surface cannot be increased. 



PEODUCTION 31 

A second classification of labor to be noted is that 
into productive and unproductive labor. The dis- 
tinction between these two generally given is that 
productive labor is such labor as increases the total 
production of commodities, while unproductive labor 
is labor expended in such a way as not to increase 
such production of commodities. Under the head of 
unproductive labor would be included such diverse 
occupations as those of the professions and of per- 
sonal servants. The dividing line between these 
two classes is hard to draw, and the distinction at its 
best is of little value, and at its worst has been the 
cause of much erroneous reasoning and unfounded 
prejudice. As a matter of fact, there are few occu- 
pations which are not in their ultimate analysis pro- 
ductive. The superintendent of the factory does 
nothing himself to directly increase production, but 
his work may in fact double the production of those 
working under him. Similarly the work of the 
teacher is in no sense directly productive, but the 
work of the teachers of the nation make the differ- 
ence between an intelligent and ignorant class of 
laborers, with the accompanying vast difference in 
the amount of production. The work of the doctor 
by saving the life of a productive laborer increases 
production. It is even doubtful if those whose duty 
is merely to amuse the members of a community may 
not, when the amusement is of a proper kind and 
quantity, tend to increase the cheerfulness and 
vitality and thus the efficiency of those laborers 
whose work is directly productive. 

The fact is that the distinction between physical 
and mental laborers or between productive and non- 



22 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

productive laborers is one of little value, that the 
classes shade imperceptibly into each other and that 
theories as to the relative value to the community of 
one class or the other are to be discredited and 
discouraged. 

From the standpoint of the Political Economist 
whatever satisfies the desires of mankind is entitled 
to compensation out of the total production of the 
community. With the question of the wisdom or 
morality of the desire, Political Economy is not con- 
cerned. The settlement of such questions belongs to 
others. 

Section 13. Application of Labor. 

Given the natural resources of a country in their 
wild state, human utilities can be produced there- 
from only by the expenditure of human labor. The 
amount of the production will increase with an in- 
crease in "the total amount of the labor applied. The 
total amount of labor will be the product of the num- 
ber of laborers multiplied by their efficiency. 

*'The annual produce of the land and labor of 
any nation can be increased in its value by no other 
means but by increasing the number of its produc- 
tive laborers, or the productive powers of those la- 
borers who had before been employed. The number 
of its productive laborers, it is evident, can never be 
much increased, but in consequence of an increase 
of capital, or of the funds destined for maintaining 
them. The productive powers of the same number 
of laborers cannot be increased, but in consequence 
of either of some addition and improvement to those 



PEODUCTION 23 

machines and instruments which facilitate and 
abridge labor; or of a more proper division and dis- 
tribution of employment. In either case an addition 
of capital is almost always required. It is by means 
of an additional capital only that the undertaker of 
any work can either provide his workmen with bet- 
ter machinery or make a more proper distribution 
of employment among them. When the work to be 
done consists of a number of parts, to keep every 
man constantly employed in one way, requires a 
much greater capital than where every man is occa- 
sionally employed in every different part of the 
work. When we compare, therefore, the state of a 
nation at two different periods, and find that the 
annual produce of its land and labor is evidently 
greater at the latter than at the former, that its lands 
are better cultivated, its manufactures more numer- 
ous and more flourishing, and its trade more exten- 
sive, we may be assured that its capital must have 
increased during the interval between these two 
periods, and that more must have been added to it by 
the good conduct of some, than had been taken from 
it either by the private misconduct of others, or by 
the public extravagance of government. But we 
shall find this to have been the case of almost all 
nations, in all tolerably quiet and peaceable times, 
even of those who have not enjoyed the most prudent 
and parsimonious governments. To form a right 
judgment of it, indeed, we must compare the state of 
the country at periods somewhat distant from one 
another. The progress is frequently so gradual 
that, at near periods, the improvement is not only 
not sensible, but from the declension either of cer- 



24 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

tain branches of industry, or of certain districts of 
the country, things which sometimes happen though 
the country in general be in great prosperity, there 
frequently arises a suspicion that the riches and 
industry of the whole are decaying."^ 

The sum total of commodities produced from a 
given piece of land is therefore dependent upon the 
amount of labor put upon it. In this connection both 
the quantity and quality, or efficiency of the labor 
must be considered. The efficiency of the labor is 
influenced by many conditions, the intelligence and 
skill of the laborer, the intelligence with which his 
labor is applied and directed, the nimaber of laborers 
employed on a given quantity of land, and the capi- 
tal at the disposal of the laborer. 

Section 14. The Law of Diminishing Returns From 

Land. 

Labor, equal in quantity and efficiency, may not 
necessarily yield the same return if applied to the 
same land. It is one of the best established rules of 
political economy that the production from land can- 
not increase indefinitely in proportion to the increase 
of the amount of labor expended thereon. While up 
to a certain point co-operation of laborers will in- 
crease the production to a degree greater than the 
increase in the number of laborers, the time is soon 
reached where increased labor will not produce pro- 
portionally increased production. The above is the 
substance of the famous law of diminishing returns 
from land. In connection with this rule it must be 
noted: 

*Adam Smith's "Wealth of Nations," Book II, Chap. 3. 



PEODUCTION 25 

1st, that the law only applied in the case of agri- 
cultural labor and not in the case of manufactures; 

2nd, the same rule applied whether the increased 
labor consists of an increase in the number of labor- 
ers or in additional time spent by the same laborer 
or laborers; 

3rd, the rule disregards improved methods of 
cultivation; the rule may more accurately be stated 
as follows: methods of cultivating and capital em- 
ployed remaining the same, after a certain stage of 
cultivation has been reached, each additional unit of 
additional labor employed upon a certain piece of 
land will produce a smaller increase in production 
than the last preceding unit of labor. 

To illustrate a great general principle by a simple 
concrete illustration, we will take the case of a man 
who owns and cultivates a small field. If he should 
spend one or two days' labor only in a year on this 
field such labor would probably be entirely lost, as 
it would be insufiicient to even prepare the field for 
planting, a week's labor might be sufficient to plant 
the crop, and hastily reap it, and thus secure some 
returns from the land. Crops merely planted, and 
not attended to, can only yield meagre and unsatis- 
factory returns, and an extra week spent in caring 
for the crops while growing and in carefully reaping 
them will much more than double the crop while 
only doubling the labor. A third week of labor would 
also probably increase the production in a propor- 
tionate amount. Before long, however, the point of 
the highest proportional production would be 
reached. 

A further increase of labor expended on the land 



26 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

would increase the production, but the proportional 
production for each day's additional labor would 
grow less. Ultimately the point would be reached 
where the increased production resulting from any 
further increase in the amount of labor expended 
would not pay for the value of such labor. This is 
the point where theoretically the expenditure of 
labor on capital should stop. 

Let us illustrate this again by the following table, 
showing the total production obtained from a certain 
field by the expenditure of different quantities of 
labor: 



Number of clays' labor 


Number of bushels of 


expended. 


grain produced. 


1 


. . 


2 




3 


io 


4 


25 


5 


40 


6 


60 


7 


69 


8 


78 


9 


85 


10 


90 


11 


94 


12 


97 


13 


99 


14 


100 



In this table it will be seen that the highest rela- 
tive return is from six days' labor, where ten bushels 
of grain is the reward for each day's work. Prom 
this point on each day's additional labor produces 
an increased production, but an ever decreasing in- 
crease, until finally the fourteenth day's labor results 
in an increased production of only a single bushel. 
The expenditure of additional labor would have 
become unprofitable before this day was reached. 

In recent years the truth of the principal of the 
diminishing returns from land has been obscured by 



PEODUCTIOI^r 27 

the presence of other economic forces. The wonder- 
ful improvements in methods and implements have 
so increased the production from all land that the 
influences which tend to restrict production are lost 
sight of; in spite of which fact, however, the great 
economic principle remains as true as ever, that 
under either a high stage or a low stage of agricul- 
tural methods only a limited quantity of labor can 
be profitably used on a given portion of land. Im- 
provements in agricultural methods and implements, 
while they always increase production from a given 
piece of land, may either increase or decrease the 
quantity of labor which may be profitably employed 
thereon. 

Section 15. The Malthusian Doctrine. 

Closely connected with the law of the diminish- 
ing returns from land is the so-called "Malthusian 
Doctrine" of population. This principle may be 
most briefly stated by saying that population tends 
to increase in a geometrical progression, while the 
means of supporting population only increase in 
an arithmetical proportion. This theory is best ex- 
plained in words of the author from whom the theory 
derives its name : 

' ' The cause to which I allude is the constant tend- 
ency in all animated life to increase beyond the nour- 
ishment prepared for it. 

It is observed by Dr. Franklin that there is no 
bound to the prolific nature of plants or animals but 
what is made by their crowding and interfering with 
each other's means of subsistence. Were the face of 



28 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

the earth, lie says, vacant of other plants, it might be 
gradually sowed and oversowed with one kind only, 
as, for instance, with fennel; and were it empty of 
other inhabitants, it might in a few ages be replen- 
ished from one nation only, as, for instance, with 
Englishmen. 

This is incontrovertibly true. Throughout the 
animal and vegetable kingdom Nature has scattered 
the seeds of life abroad with the most profuse and 
liberal hand; but has been comparatively sparing in 
the room and the nourishment necessary to rear 
them. The germs of existence contained in this 
earth, if they could freely develop themselves, would 
fill millions of worlds in the course of a few thousand 
years. Necessity, that imperious, all-pervading law 
of nature, restrains them within the prescribed 
bounds. The race of plants and the race of animals 
shrink under this great restrictive law, and man 
cannot by any efforts of reason escape from it. 

In plants and irrational animals the view of the 
subject is simple. They are all impelled by a power- 
ful instinct to the increase of their species, and this 
instinct is interrupted by no doubts about providing 
for their offspring. Wherever, therefore, there is 
liberty, the power of increase is exerted, and the 
superabundant effects are repressed afterwards by 
want of room and nourishment. 

The effects of this check on man are more com- 
plicated. Impelled to the increase of his species by 
an equally powerful instinct, reason interrupts his 
career, and asks whether he may not bring beings 
into the world for whom he cannot provide the means 
of support. If he attends to this natural suggestion, 



PEODUCTION 29 

the restriction too frequently produces vice. If he 
hear it not, the human race will be constantly en- 
deavoring to increase beyond the means of subsist- 
ence. But, by that law of our nature which makes 
food necessary to the life of man, population can 
never actually increase beyond the lowest nourish- 
ment capable of supporting it, a strong check on 
population, from the difficulty of acquiring food, 
must be constantly in operation. This difficulty 
must fall somewhere, and must necessarily be se- 
verely felt in some or other of the various forms of 
misery, or the fear of misery, by a large portion of 
mankind. 

That population has this constant tendency to 
increase beyond the means of subsistence, and that 
it is kept to its necessary level by these causes, will 
sufficiently appear from a review of the different 
states of society in which the man has existed. * * * 

It may safely be pronounced therefore that popu- 
lation, when unchecked, goes on doubling itself every 
twenty-five years, or increases in a geometrical 
ratio. 

The rate according to which the productions of 
the earth may be supposed to increase, will not be 
so easy to determine. Of this, however, we may be 
perfectly certain, that the ratio of their increase in 
a limited territory must be of a totally different na- 
ture from the ratio of the increase of population. A 
thousand millions are just as easily doubled every 
twenty-five years by the power of population as a 
thousand. But the food to support the increase 
from the greater number will by no means be ob- 
tained with the same facility. Man is necessarily 



30 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

confined in room. When acre has been added to 
acre till all the fertile land is occupied, the yearly 
increase of food must depend upon the melioration 
of the land already in possession. This is a fund, 
which, from the nature of all soils, instead of in- 
creasing, must be gradually diminishing. But pop- 
ulation, could it be supplied with food, would go on 
with unexhausted vigor, and the increase of one pe- 
riod would furnish the power of a greater increase 
the next, and this without any limit. 

From the accounts we have of China and Japan, 
it may be fairly doubted whether the best directed 
efforts of human industry could double the produce 
of these countries even once in any number of years. 
There are many parts of the globe, indeed, hitherto 
uncultivated and almost unoccupied; but the right 
of exterminating, of driving into a corner where 
they must starve, even the inhabitants of these thin- 
ly-peopled regions, will be questioned in a moral 
view. The process of improving their minds and 
directing their industry would necessarily be slow; 
and during this time, as population would regularly 
keep pace with the increasing produce, it would 
rarely happen that a great degree of knowledge and 
industry would have to operate at once upon rich 
unappropriated soil. Even where this might take 
place, as it sometimes does in new colonies, a geo- 
metrical ratio increases with such extraordinary 
rapidity, that the advantage could not last long."^ 

As in the case of the law of diminishing returns 
from land the truth of this principle is obscured and 
its effect to a greater or less degree counteracted by 

^Malthus on "The Principle of Population," Book I, Chap 1. 



PEODUCTION 31 

other influences. The importance of this doctrine 
has been overestimated by some writers, and is cer- 
tainly of less importance than it was at the time 
(near the close of the eighteenth century) when 
Malthus wrote. 

New inventions, better transportation, increased 
capital, have increased the production of food at a 
much greater rate than was considered possible by 
Malthus; while the increase of what Malthus refers 
to as the preventive checks have been so great that, 
in some countries, and in certain localities in nearly 
all countries, the birth rate is hardly sufficient to 
keep the population stationary. The full force of 
this principle is now mainly to be observed in such 
over crowded countries as China and India. The 
most injurious effect of a too rapid increase of pop- 
ulation in our own country at the present time, is 
that of keeping down wages through thepresence of 
a greater number of laborers than there is work for 
under average economic conditions. 

Section 16. Division of Labor. 

One important matter the bearing of which upon 
the subject of production has been the subject of 
much controversy is that of the effect of the division 
of labor. 

The advantages of the division of labor have thus 
been summed up by Professor Ely: 

' ' The advantages of a division of labor have been 
enumerated as follows : (1) A gain of time. A change 
of operations costs time. Less time is also con- 
sumed in learning one's business, as the labor of 



33 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

each is more simple. (2) Greater skill is ac- 
quired, because each person confines himself to one 
operation. (3) Labor is used more advantageously. 
Some parts of an industrial process can be per- 
formed by a weak person, others require unusual 
physical strength, some require extraordinary intel- 
ligence, some can be performed by a man of very 
ordinary intellectual powers, and so on indefinitely. 
Each one is so employed that his entire power is 
utilized, and work is found for all, young and old, 
weak and strong, stupid and intellectually gifted. 
(4) Inventions are more frequent, because the in- 
dustrial processes are so divided that it is easy to 
see just where an improvement is possible. Besides 
this, when a person is exclusively engaged in one 
simple operation, he often sees how the appliances 
he uses could be improved. Workmen have made 
many important inventions. (5) Capital is better 
utilized. Each workman uses one set of tools or one 
part of a set, and keeps that employed all the time. 
When each workman does many things, he has many 
tools, and some are always idle. (6) Finally, where 
the division of labor results in the simplification of 
operation, it facilitates the substitution of machin- 
ery with mechanical power in place of direct human 
labor." ^ 

The principle disadvantage arising from a min- 
ute division of labor are the narrowing effect upon 
the workman who, as it has been expressed, may be 
engaged day after day, year after year, making a 
single part of a pin, and the fact that if a man be- 
comes too highly specialized it narrows his oppor- 

* Ely's "Outline of Economics," pp. 128-9. 



PRODUCTION 33 

tunity of becoming successful in any other direc- 
tion, and if he is unable to find work in his 
particular line, he will be unable to secure work at 
aU. 



CHAPTER in. 

DISTRIBUTION. 

Section 17. Scope of this Division. 

In the previous chapter the various agencies, 
whose combined effort is required in the production 
of utilities, have been considered. From the fact 
that various factors are thus necessarily combined 
for the production of utilities or commodities, the 
benefits derived from such utilities must be divided 
in some way among such factors. The determina- 
tion of the rules and principles in accordance with 
which such division is to be made, is the province 
of that branch of Political Economy, which is treated 
under the title of *' Distribution.'' Distribution is 
primarily concerned with the process of distribution 
between the different factors of production, land, 
labor and capital. The question of distribution 
among individuals is one largely neglected by writ- 
ers on this subject. This form of distribution, 
however, is the one which naturally attracts the at- 
tention of the public, and is treated in sections 24, 
25 and 26 of this chapter. 

Section 18. Importance of this Division. 

At an earlier period the division of political 
economy of most vital importance to mankind was 

35 



36 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

that of production. From the dawn of history up to 
the time of the present generation we see the mass 
of the inhabitants of every country and in every 
age living at the very verge of bare existence. It is 
only in recent years that the marvelous improve- 
ments in the methods of production have so in- 
creased production, that, at least in the more favored 
countries, it is now possible to produce enough to 
more than supply the needs of all the inhabitants of 
the country. The result is that, at the present time, 
the greatest problems of political economy are to be 
found in the field of distribution. 

The earlier writers in this science almost without 
exception paid their greatest attentions to the prob- 
lems of production. The gloomy view as to the 
impossibility of sufficient production, taken by 
Malthus, has already been referred to. 

*'The mercantilistic writers of the seventeenth 
and eighteenth centuries were primarily interested 
in the most efficient ways of increasing the sum total 
of a nation's wealth. Even Adam Smith, as the title 
of his great work, *An Inquiry Into the Nature and 
Causes of the Wealth of Nations,' indicates he had 
chiefly in mind the same problem, although he em- 
phasized the fact that the real well-being of a nation 
consists in the well-being of the great body of its 
people. During the past century the production of 
wealth has increased beyond all precedent, the chief 
factors contributing to this result being the factory 
system, the exploitation of vast material resources 
(made possible only by modern methods of trans- 
portation), and the free scope given to the initiative 
of the individual business man. In the United 



DISTEIBUTION 37 

States, at least, we do not feel that there are any 
pressing problems concerning the production of 
wealth. Yet poverty still exists, and its harsh 
features are thrown into sharper relief by <3ontrast 
with the fact that the present production of wealth 
per capita in the United States is indisputably the 
highest that the world has ever known. Moreover, 
while the social discontent arising from inequalities 
in the distribution of wealth is a very old thing, it is 
only in modem times that democracy has given it 
an adequate opportunity for formulated, organized 
expression. It is not too much to say that nearly all 
the economic problems which are felt to press upon 
society today for solution relate directly or indi- 
rectly to the distribution of wealth." ^ 

Section 19. Combination of Different Economic 
Characters in Same Person. 

The distribution of the commodities produced 
among the landlord, capitalist, laborer, and entre- 
preneur does not necessarily involve their distribu- 
tion among this number of persons. It is possible 
for two or more of these characters to be combined 
in the same person. In an extreme case, all four 
may be present in the same person. Thus the 
farmer who owns his farm *^ clear'' and cultivates it 
without any hired help is at once landlord, capital- 
ist, laborer, and entrepreneur. In this case, there 
is no distribution as between persons, but the 
principles of the distribution as between the 
four factors still exists; out of the total of 

^ Ely's "Outlines of Eeonomies," pp. 315-6. 



38 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

the commodities produced by the farmer, an 
amount equal in value to what he could have 
rented the farm for is received as rent; an amount 
equal in value to the sum which some other 
person would have paid him for the use of the capital 
which he has employed on his farm, is received as 
interest; an amount equal in value to which he could 
have received in payment for the amount of labor 
which he has expended on the farm is received as 
interest; while the surplus, if any, remaining after 
these three amounts have been deducted is the 
profits of the farm as an entrepreneur; if the total 
production is less than the total of the first three 
amounts, then the farmer has lost in his capacity as 
an entrepreneur. 

It is seldom that we find all four factors of pro- 
duction owned by or represented in, the same party, 
but the union of two or more of the same is by no 
means uncommon. 

Section 20. Rent. 

The parties to production, who under existing 
economic conditions must first be paid out of the 
total production, are the landowners. The share of 
the landowners is called rent. Rent, strictly speak- 
ing, is limited to that share of production which goes 
to the landowner in payment for the land in its 
unimproved condition, the additional amount paid to 
the landowner on account of the improvements made 
to, or on, the land, is in reality not rent, but interest. 
In popular use, we find a very common erroneous 
extension of the term, the name being applied not 



DISTEIBUTION 39 

only to the price paid for the use of both land and 
improvements of land but also for the price paid for 
the use of movable personal property. In the study 
of political economy, however, the term must only 
be used in its proper restricted sense. 

The underlying principles of rent and interest 
are fundamentally different. This difference is to 
be observed both in the manner which the amount 
paid is determined, and also in the very basis upon 
which a share in production is demanded. 

The value of land (excluding improvements upon 
land, which are strictly, from the standpoint of 
Political Economy, capital rather than land) is 
strictly monopoly value. In a newly settled country, 
where the land has not been all appropriated, and 
there still remains enough land of the highest qual- 
ity for all the inhabitants, land can have no greater 
exchange value than air and water do at the present 
time. Under such circumstances, land, air and 
water, will all be of the highest possible degree of 
utility, but with no exchange value, because they 
are furnished free by nature, and anyone can secure 
all that he desires of either, by the simple act of 
appropriation. There can be no rent under such 
conditions. 

It is not necessary, however, that all the land of a 
community must be appropriated or in use, before 
rent begins. On account of the varying degrees of 
fertility in land, it will often be more profitable to 
pay rent for certain lands than to occupy other lands 
free. Rent will therefore make its appearance in a 
community where all the first grade land has been 
occupied. The securing and holding of land for 



40 POLITICAL ECOITOMY 

speculative purposes, will cause the appearance of 
rent, sooner, than it would appear under natural 
conditions. 

The theory of rent may be stated as follows: 
Land which will not produce enough to pay for the 
labor expended upon it will never be cultivated, but 
in every community there will be certain land which 
will produce just enough to pay for such labor ex- 
pended upon it. Such land is known as ^* no-rent" 
land, or land ''on the margin of cultivation," and 
evidently can bring no rent. Such land, or at least 
its use, can always be obtained in any community 
either free, or for a nominal consideration. A man, 
therefore, will have his choice of using such land 
free, or paying rent for the use of a higher grade of 
land. What will be the measure of such payment? 
Naturally the difference between the production of 
the land hired and the production of land which can 
be obtained without paying rent. Rent therefore, is 
the difference between the production of any piece 
of land, and the production of land in the community 
at the margin of cultivation, the amount of labor 
expended in each case being the same. In determin- 
ing the production of different pieces of land, the 
expense of taking the goods to market must be 
deducted from the gross production. 

It is evident from this explanation of the theory 
of rent, that rent must go up as labor goes down. 
A reduction in the scale of wages of a community 
will make it profitable to employ labor on poorer 
lands, this reduces the margin of cultivation, and 
increases the rent of all land. This increased value 



DISTRIBUTION 41 

of land, due to increased population, is known as the 
'* unearned increment." 

The theory of the *' Single Tax" advocates, is 
based upon the injustice of allowing individuals to 
receive the benefit of this unearned increment, which 
is due to the growth of the community. 

The doctrine of rent just given applies to agri- 
cultural land, the rent of land for other purposes is 
determined by a similar but not identical rule. The 
rent of land for either manufacturing business, or 
residential purposes, is determined by the relative 
desirability of the land. In these cases, rent is regu- 
lated by location, rather than by fertility, and the 
operation of the "unearned increment" is even more 
strongly marked. 

Section 21. Interest. 

The theory of interest is much simpler than that 
of rent. Interest is paid for the use of capital, and 
its amount is determined, solely and simply, by the 
law of supply and demand. There is no ''no-inter- 
est" capital to correspond with the ''no-rent" land. 
All capital is alike to the borrower. All capital, not 
used by the owner, or simply hoarded is seeking 
investment, and competes with all other capital. If 
capital is plenty, and demand for it slight, interest 
will fall; while, if capital is scarce and the demand 
for it great, then interest will rise. In theory, at 
least, either state of affairs will tend to produce a 
re-action, as low interest will discourage saving, and 
thus in time reduce the amount of capital seeking 
investment, while high interest will stimulate 
savings, and thus increase capital. 



42 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Various secondary causes modifying interest 
must be considered. Rates of interest will be much 
higher in some places (especially newly settled re- 
gions) than in others. There is a tendency among 
capitalists to prefer to invest their capital near at 
home, rather than at a distance. This is sometimes 
referred to, as the disinclination of capital to emi- 
grate. This tendency is constantly growing weaker. 

Again, even in the same community at the same 
time, different rates will be charged for different 
loans. This arises from the different degrees of risk 
in the loans. As a matter of fact, interest is always 
made up of two different elements, first, true inter- 
est, for the use of the capital, and second, a charge, 
in the nature of insurance, to re-imburse the lender 
for the risk of loss. United States bonds would 
serve as an illustration of a loan where the risk of 
loss (as well as the liability to taxation) has been 
eliminated. 

Section 22. Wages. 

It has been customary among writers on Political 
Economy to explain the theory of wages by stating 
that the general standard of (unskilled) labor in a 
community, will be determined by the production of 
an agricultural laborer working at the margin of 
cultivation. While such a statement was, at one 
time, substantially true, the increased complication 
of the modern economic organization of society has 
added so many elements to the causes that determine 
wages, that the old theory is to-day of little practical 
value. 

It can be briefly stated at present, that the wages 



DISTRIBUTION 43 

of labor are regulated by the law of supply and de- 
mand. Even under this statement, a strong and 
direct connection is to be observed between wages 
and rent, and in general it might be said that causes 
which tend to raise one, will at the same time, tend 
to reduce the other. Increased population, as it has 
been shown, always increases rent by reducing the 
margin of cultivation, it also, at the same time, must 
decrease wages by compelling poorer lands to be 
cultivated and more labor to be spent on lands al- 
ready under cultivation which, according to the law 
of diminishing returns from land, means less pro- 
duction per unit of labor expended. From the stand- 
point of the law of supply and demand, the relation 
between rent and wages may thus be stated. When 
land is plenty, rent will be low, and the demand for 
labor to cultivate land will raise wages, when land 
is scarce (in proportion to the size of the population) 
rent will be high, and the competition of laborers 
for an opportunity to work on land will reduce 
wages. The great hardship, from the standpoint of 
labor, is that those same causes which tend to reduce 
the total production (per inhabitant) of a com- 
munity, also tend to reduce the laborer's share of 
what is produced, thus decreasing wages by a double 
force. 

By a similar application of the law of supply 
and demand, the increase of capital in a community 
will tend to increase wages, while the decrease of 
capital will tend to decrease them. 

The forces which affect wages in individual 
cases are almost numberless, the skill, education, 
and health of the workman, combinations of em- 



44 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

ployers, trade-unions, the overcrowding of certain 
occupations, tariffs, the risk of length of time in- 
volved in preparing for certain occupations, all have 
their influence. These various factors will be dis- 
cussed elsewhere. 

Section 23. Profits. 

Profits are the distributive share of the 
entrepreneur, and should be carefully distinguished 
from the other shares. Money which is received for 
the use of land, for the use of capital, or from one's 
own labor, cannot be properly considered as profit. 

The laws governing profit are more analogous to 
those governing rent than those governing interest 
or wages; as in the case of rent, profit will be the 
reward of superiority. All capital can draw interest, 
all labor will receive wages, but not all land can be the 
subject of rent, and not all entrepreneurs can receive 
profits. In fact, the number of men who under the 
present industrial and economic system can succeed 
as entrepreneurs constitute a very small percentage 
of the total population, as even the majority of men 
who conduct their own business, and who consider 
themselves successful, make no profit; in a majority 
of such cases, the net receipts from the business will 
be found to be no more in amount than what would 
have been received as interest on the capital invested, 
and as wages for the labor expended by the employer 
himself. Competition can always be trusted to keep 
down the average net receipts in any line of business 
to this point. 

Profits generally, therefore, will consist in the 



DISTEIBUTION 45 

additional net receipts that can be produced with the 
use of a given capital by a man of exceptional ability 
in the capacity of entrepreneur, over the net 
earnings produced by the ordinary employer in the 
same line of business, who may be compared to the 
land on the margin of cultivation, under the doctrine 
of rent. 

Section 24. Class Controversies. 

The past few years in American economic history 
has witnessed an increasing antagonism between 
the various economic classes ; and the substitution, to 
a large extent, of class competition for individual 
competition. The normal competition, is that be- 
tween men doing the same work, or engaged in the 
same business; that is, competition of laborers with 
laborers, or capitalists with capitalists. Such com- 
petition has largely been done away with during the 
past few years, by the creation of labor unions 
among the laborers, and of trusts and monopolies 
among the capitalists. In the place of this competi- 
tion, has arisen the contest between labor and capital 
already referred to. 

Section 25. Labor Unions. 

Combinations between laborers for their mutual 
advancement have existed in a rudimentary form 
throughout almost all the whole period of authentic 
history. 

In earlier periods, such unions were generally 
sternly repressed by law, and it was not until the 



46 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

present generation that they have arisen to their 
present strength and importance. 

''The history of American trade-unions may be 
divided into five periods: (1) A formative period 
reaching down to about 1840, and including the early 
ten-hour movement. (2) A period of quiet growth 
on trade-union lines, accompanied by a wave of 
Fourierite socialism in the country, and then the 
concentration of all interest in the War of the Ee- 
bellion, ending in 1865. (3) A period of active e:ffort 
on trade-union lines, reaching to 1878. (4) A period 
of great strikes and efforts at general organization, 
like the Knights of Labor, culminating in 1886. (5) 
The present period of the dominance of the Amer- 
ican Federation of Labor." ^ 

The arguments for labor unions have been thus 
summed up in the recently published Encyclopedia- 
of Social Reform: 

AEGUMENTS FOR TRADE-UNIONS. 

''The first argument for the existence of trade- 
unions is that they are necessary to protect the in- 
dividual employee. For capitalists organized in 
great corporations to refuse to allow their employees 
to organize is injustice. Before the gigantic or- 
ganization of capital to-day the individual employee 
is helpless. Only by organization and collective 
bargaining can he at all put himself on a basis of 
equality in dealings with his employer. 

Trade-unions are necessary to allow of arbitra- 
tion, conciliation, and responsible, enduring relations 
between workmen and their employers. Boards of 

^ Bliss 's ' ' Encyclopedia of Social Eef orm, ' ' p. 1228. 



DISTEIBUTION 47 

arbitration and conciliation cannot deal between em- 
ployers and each of several hundred employees 
acting as individuals. In England the large em- 
ployers have learned to prefer to deal with strong 
trade-unions. Then responsible bargains can be 
made for a year ahead between the masters and the 
men, and the men and the corporations can know 
what to count on in fixing their prices. * * * 

Invention and machinery make trade-unions and 
short hours necessary. Muscular labor has been re- 
placed by machinery in different trades from 
50 to 300 per cent. This process is going on con- 
tinually. Typesetting machines displace thousands 
of compositors. Trade-unions are often the only 
bulwark between the wage-worker and terrible re- 
ductions in wages. They are also the only hope of 
steady, orderly solution of the labor question. In 
trades where labor is well organized there are high 
wages and peace and hope. 

The best argument for trade-unions is the simple 
statement of what they have done. 

In the United States trade-unions have produced 
the same results. 

1. That have shortened hours of toil from 13, 
14, and occasionally 16, seventy years ago, to 12, 11, 
10, and even to 8 in very many trades to-day. This 
is almost solely due to trade-unions, and has not 
taken place in portions of the country or in trades 
where trade-unionism is weak. 

2. Trade-unions have mainly contributed to what 
rise of wages has been gained. 

3. Trade-unions have prevented an unknown 
number of cut-downs in wages. 



48 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

4. Trade-unions have gained in many states leg- 
islation preventing the truck system, the locking of 
factory doors in work-hours, the employment of 
women and children at night, etc. 

They have gained legislation protecting the life 
and limb of employees from unguarded machinery, 
compelling the erection of fire-escapes, appointing 
factory inspectors (men and women). They have 
helped or led in establishing evening schools, labor 
bureaus, boards of arbitration and conciliation. 
They have caused to be enacted laws compelling 
weekly payment of wages, exempting the wages of 
wives and children from attachment, defining the 
responsibility of railroad and other corporations for 
accidents to their employees, above all, limiting the 
hours of labor for women and children. 

Such laws have not been passed in all states, nor 
are they wholly due to trade-union efforts; but they 
have scarcely ever, if ever, been passed where trade- 
unions are weak, and in almost all cases it has been 
trade-union leaders who have attended the legisla- 
tive hearings, collected the witnesses, and conducted 
the agitations that have resulted in these laws. 

5. The chief benefit of trade-unions is implied in 
the above, viz., their educational effect. It is said 
that good trade-unions do good and poor trade- 
unions do harm, but good trade-unions usually come 
as the outgrowth of poor and weak trade-unions. 
Therefore even poor and weak trade-unions are to be 
encouraged and made strong and good as soon as 
possible. 

6. Trade-unions have been of inestimable use to 
the working classes as benefit societies. 



DISTEIBUTION 49 

OBJECTIONS TO TKADE-UNIONS. 

1. It is said that they are tyrannical. On the 
contrary, they are utterly democratic. In every 
trade-union, every office, every rule, every strike is 
voted upon by the members, and the majority pre- 
vails. Sometimes a union, after voting to strike, 
empowers a walking delegate to call the strike when 
he thinks best; but the decision to strike does not lie 
with him. It not unfrequently happens that an em- 
ployer asks an employee why he struck, and the man 
says he was compelled to strike by his union. Yet 
often that same employee himself voted to strike. 
Employees do not usually tell their employers when 
they vote to strike. Of course, in a democratic or- 
ganization, a minority submits to a majority, but 
this is not tyranny. Sometimes, therefore, some men 
do strike against their will; but if they did not be- 
long to a union they would have their will more 
crossed by their employers, so that, though in a union 
a man does not always have his way, he has it infi- 
nitely more often than the employee who belongs to 
no union. 

2. It is said that trade-unions are led by agi- 
tators whose salaries depend on getting up an agita- 
tion. This occasionally happens, but very seldom. 
Trade-unions employ walking delegates for two 
reasons : (1) To attend to the important beneficiary 
work of the union; (2) because they have learned 
that it is necessary to have some one to represent 
them in dealing with their employers who is not 
financially dependent upon his employer. This is 
unquestionably necessary. 



50 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

3. It is said that trade-unions are mischievous in 
creating useless strikes. This is, generally speaking, 
a mistake. 

4. It is said that trade-unions lower the efficiency 
of labor, interfere with personal rights, and create 
violence by preventing apprentices from learning 
trades, by demanding equal wages for union mem- 
bers without reference to skill, by interfering with 
the employer's right to employ whom he will, and 
demanding that he employ only union labor, and by 
attacking non-union labor in time of strikes." ^ 

Section 26. Monopolies and Trusts. 

A monopoly in economics, is the exclusive right 
or power of production, transportation, or sale. A 
monopoly may be either natural or artificial. Land, 
is in a broad sense, a natural monopoly, on account 
of the limited supply. 

Artificial monopolies may be either those created 
by sanction of the law, or those created by combina- 
tions among individuals. Monopolies created by 
government were formerly very common in most 
countries. At the present time, in the United States, 
the only monopolies recognized by this government 
are those given by patents and copyrights. Artificial 
monopolies created by combinations among individ- 
uals or trusts, as they are generally called, have 
become very common and highly developed in this 
country in this generation. The term "trusts" is 
used in this connection on account of the fact that 
the methods employed at the creation of the first of 

=" Bliss's "Encyclopedia of Social Eeform," pp. 1226-7. 



DISTEIBUTIOK 51 

these giant combinations was to transfer the stock 
of each of the combining corporations to certain 
trustees who were to vote and control the stock of 
each corporation. A great deal of bitter controversy 
is being waged at the present time as to the relative 
merits of trusts. The chief argument used in their 
favor is on account of the vast saving which it makes 
in the elements of competition and the improved 
methods of production which are possible when pro- 
duction takes place on such a large scale. 

On the other side, it is urged that the trusts have 
destroyed competition, ruined thousands of small 
business men, created a class of multimillionaires, 
and added still another corrupting influence in poli- 
tics. It is also denied that production can be carried 
on as economically under such vast combinations as 
those found in the trusts, as in the case of industrial 
organizations of a more moderate size. 

Section 27. Socialism. 

Socialism is the doctrine of one class of extreme 
opponents of the present economic and industrial 
institutions of the world. In general the programme 
of the socialists purposes the abolition of private 
property and the acquisition by the Government of 
all instrumentalities of production. 

It is very difficult to give an accurate definition 
of socialism and of the complete plans of the social- 
ists, because the socialists themselves have never 
agreed as to either of these, and any definition given 
by an outsider is sure to be denounced by the social- 
ists as unfair to the movement. The following state- 



53 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

ment of the aims of the socialists is taken from the 
Encyclopedia of Social Reform, which states that it 
is from the standpoint of the "International So- 
cialist Movement": 

'^As a doctrine, modern socialism is founded upon 
the materialist conception of history, or, as it might 
better be called, the economic interpretation of his- 
tory. This economic interpretation of history sees 
the superstructure of society in all times, with all 
its institutions, its codes and morals and of laws, 
as a reflex of the prevailing system of production 
and distribution. It does not, as is often maintained, 
see in man's every action the spur of an economic 
impulse. It does not blind itself to countless individ- 
ual acts of renunciation, of sacrifice, of martyrdom; 
but it does see a coloring and an impress given to 
all human actions through this material environ- 
ment. Men gladly give themselves to torture, priva- 
tion, or death in behalf of a great cause, but the 
cause itself will inevitably be found to be a reaction 
from some form of social or economic oppression. 

As a part of this economic interpretation of his- 
tory, we have also the theory of a class struggle. 
Human activities, though fundamentally individual, 
take on a collective form through the very necessi- 
ties of social life. Men widely separated from one 
another, if working at like tasks, under like condi- 
tions, or suffering from like modes of oppression, 
instinctively react in like ways. They see the futil- 
ity of individual revolt, and spontaneously they act 
in concert. They may be but rarely conscious of 
their motives in resisting a wrong, or in seeking a 
political, social, or economic advantage. And yet, 



DISTRIBUTION 53 

conscious or but partly conscious, or even uncon- 
scious of their motives, they tend to act in like ways 
under like conditions. Thus, history resolves itself 
into a series of struggles between possessing classes 
and non-possessing classes, attended by varying 
fortunes, and carried on with but slight intermission 
through all the changes in modes of production. In 
our day the development of industry reaches a stage 
wherein we see steadily maintained a contest, how- 
ever disguised, between a class of owners of the 
means of production and an increasing class of 
workers who own none of the means of production, 
but are employed at wage labor in producing wealth 
for the owners. It is a situation which, Socialists 
say, cannot last. Production has become social. 
That is, most commodities are produced by masses 
of men working in gangs or herds in workshops. 
But ownership, which in varying degrees has been 
in past times common and social, has become in- 
dividual and restricted to but an infinitesimal part 
of the population. 

You may hold either one of two beliefs as to the 
manner in which the change will come. You may 
hold, as Marx and others of his time held, what has 
been called the * theory of increasing misery,' which 
is, that the increasing concentration of wealth makes 
for a greater disparity of conditions between the 
owners and the workers — increasing the privation of 
the workers as it increases the wealth of the owners. 
And this development will bring about a stage 
wherein the workers, goaded beyond endurance and 
having no other alternative, will put an end forever 
to the private ownership of the means of production. 



54 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Or, you may still be a good Socialist and hold that 
the facts have not borne out this forecast. You may 
hold, rather that with the growth of organization, 
economic and political, among the workers, they are 
bettering their lot materially, they are acquainting 
themselves more and more with the facts of history 
and of economics, and that by the increase of intelli- 
gence and thought, by an increased discipline and 
mutuality of effort — rather than through the spur of 
extreme privation — they will bring about this change. 
But whether you hold one theory or the other, you 
must, if you would be a good Socialist, hold that the 
change, when it comes, must be thoroughgoing and 
revolutionary, an abolition of the private ownership 
of the means of production."* 

Section 28. Taxation. 

Another share in distribution, besides those going 
to the landlord, capitalist, laborer, and employer, is 
that which goes to the government of the country. 
This share in distribution is called taxes. Taxes are 
paid to enable the government to perform those 
duties which are so important, even so indispensable, 
to the welfare of every member of a community. 
All countries levy and collect taxes, but the methods 
and principles followed in different countries vary 
very greatly. Two different theories have been ad- 
vanced as to the primary principle upon which 
taxation should be based. The first, is that every 
person should contribute to the support of the gov- 
ernment according to his ability; the second, is that 

* Bliss's "Encyclopedia of Social Eeform," pp. 1136-7. 



DISTEIBUTION 55 

every person should contribute according to the 
benefit which he receives from the government. The 
difficulty in applying the second principle arises 
from the impossibility of determining the amount of 
benefit which any particular individual does receive 
from the government. 

The famous four maxims of taxation given by 
Adam Smith, in his "Wealth of Nations," are as 
follows : 

"Before I enter upon the examination of partic- 
ular taxes, it is necessary to premise the four fol- 
lowing maxims with regard to taxes in general. 

1. The subjects of every state ought to contribute 
towards the support of the government, as nearly 
as possible in proportion to their respective abilities; 
that is, in proportion to the revenue which they 
respectively enjoy under the protection of the state. 
The expense of government to the individuals of a 
great nation, is like the expense of management to 
the joint tenants of a great estate, who are all 
obliged to contribute in proportion to their 
respective interests in the estate. In the observa- 
tion or neglect of this maxim consists, what is called, 
the equality or inequality of taxation. Every tax, 
it must be observed, once for all, which falls finally 
upon one only of the three sorts of revenue above 
mentioned, is necessarily unequal, in so far as it does 
not affect the other two. 

2. The tax which each individual is bound to 
pay, ought to be certain, and not arbitrary. The 
time of payment, the manner of payment, the quan- 
tity to be paid, ought all to be clear and plain to the 
contributor, and to every other person. Where it is 



56 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

otherwise, every person subject to the tax is put 
more or less in the power of the taxgatherer, who 
can either aggravate the tax upon any obnoxious 
contributor, or extort, by the terror of such aggrava- 
tion, some present or perquisite to himself. The un- 
certainty of taxation encourages the insolence and 
favors the corruption of an order of men who are 
naturally unpopiilar, even where they are neither 
insolent nor corrupt. The certainty of what each 
individual ought to pay is, in taxation, a matter of 
so great importance, that a very considerable degree 
of inequality, it appears, I believe, from the ex- 
perience of all nations, is not near so great an evil as 
a very small degree of uncertainty. 

3. Every tax ought to be levied at the time, or 
in the manner, in which it is most likely to be con- 
venient for the contributor to pay it. A tax upon 
the rent of land or of houses, payable at the same 
term at which such rents are usually paid, is levied 
at the time when it is most likely to be convenient 
for the contributor to pay; or, when he is most likely 
to have wherewithal to pay. Taxes upon such con- 
sumable goods as are articles of luxury, are all 
finally paid by the consumer, and generally in a 
manner that is very convenient for him. He pays 
them, little by little, as he has occasion to buy the 
goods,. As he is at liberty too, either to buy or 
not to buy as he pleases, it must be his own fault if 
he ever suffers any considerable inconvenience 
from such taxes. 

4. Every tax ought to be so contrived as both to 
take out and to keep out of the pockets of the people 
as little as possible over and above what it brings 



DISTRIBUTION 57 

into the public treasury of the state. A tax may 
either take out or keep out of the pockets a great 
deal more than it brings into the public treasury, in 
the four following ways. First, the levying of it may 
require a great number of officers, whose salaries 
may eat up the greater part of the produce of the 
tax, and whose perquisites may impose another addi- 
tional tax upon the people. Secondly, it may ob- 
struct the industry of the people, and discourage 
them from applying to certain branches of business 
which might give maiutenance and employment to 
great multitudes. While it obliges the people to pay, 
it may thus diminish, or perhaps destroy, some of 
the funds which might enable them more easily to 
do so. Thirdly, by the forfeitures and other penal- 
ties which those unfortunate individuals incur who 
attempt unsuccessfully to evade the tax, it may fre- 
quently ruin them and thereby put an end to the 
benefit which the community might have received 
from the employment of their capitals. An inju- 
dicious tax offers a great temptation to smuggling. 
But the penalties of smuggling must rise in propor- 
tion to the temptation. The law, contrary to all the 
ordinary principles of justice, first creates the temp- 
tation, and then punishes those who yield to it, and 
it commonly enhances the punishment too in propor- 
tion to the very circumstance which ought certainly 
to alleviate it, the temptation to commit the crime. 
Fourthly, by subjecting the people to the frequent 
visits and the odious examination of the tax-gath- 
erers, it may expose them to much unnecessary 
trouble, vexation, and oppresssion; and though vexa- 
tion is not strictly speaking, expense, it is certainly 



68 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

equivalent to the expense at which every man would 
be willing to redeem himself from it. It is in some 
one or other of these four different ways that taxes 
are frequently so much more burdensome to the 
people than they are beneficial to the sovereign. 

The evident justice and utility of the foregoing 
maxims have recommended them more or less to the 
attention of all nations. All nations have en- 
deavored, to the best of their judgment, to render 
their taxes as equal as they could contrive; as cer- 
tain, as convenient to the contributor, both in the 
time and in the mode of payment, and in proportion 
to the revenue which they brought to the prince, as 
little burdensome to the people." ^ 

Taxes are divided into the two general classes, 
of direct taxes and indirect taxes. A direct tax, is 
one, where the ultimate incidence of the tax falls 
upon the person who pays the tax in the first place. 
An indirect tax is one where the ultimate incidence 
of the tax is shifted off from the person who pays it 
to someone else, generally by means of higher price. 
Thus, a poll tax is necessarily a direct tax, while a 
tax on the manufacture of an article, such as intoxi- 
cating liquors, is an indirect tax, as the person 
paying the tax will get it back again from his 
customers. 

In this country the United States government is 
given the power by the United States Constitution 
to lay and collect taxes of all descriptions, both 
direct and indirect (with the single exception of 
duties on exports), subject to the Constitutional re- 
strictions that all indirect taxes (duties, imposts and 

= Smith 's ' * Wealth of Nations, ' ' pp. 654-5. 



DISTEIBUTION 59 

excises) must be uniform throughout the United 
States, while all direct taxes must be apportioned 
among the several States. In practice the Federal 
Government only levies custom duties and internal 
revenue taxes, and leaves the whole field of direct 
taxes to the States or their political sub-divisions. 
There is, perhaps, no other branch of the law in 
this country, which is in such hopeless confusion, 
and which works in such an unsatisfactory manner 
as that governing the taxation of personal property. 
While it is probable that the greater part, of this 
species of property, escapes taxation altogether, in- 
stances will be found where certain personal 
property is subjected to a double or even triple tax- 
ation. Examples of double taxation are to be found 
in taxation of mortgages, both at the domicile of the 
mortgagor and of the mortgagee, and in the taxation 
of the personal property of a corporation and of the 
stock which represents such property. 

Section 29. Income Taxes. 

On account of the present agitation on the sub- 
ject of income taxes in this country, this species of 
tax is considered by itself. 

Perhaps the best discussion of this species of 
taxes ever written is that by John Stuart Mill in 
Ms ** Principles of Political Economy": 

** Setting out, then, from the maxim that equal 
sacrifices ought to be demanded from all, we have 
next to inquire whether this is in fact done, by 
making each contribute the same percentage on his 
pecuniary means. Many persons maintain the nega- 



60 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

tive, saying that a tenth part taken from a small 
income is a heavier burden than the same fraction 
deducted from one much larger; and on this is 
grounded the very popular scheme of what is called 
a graduated property-tax, viz., an income tax in 
which the percentage rises with the amount of the 
income. 

On the best consideration I am able to give this 
question, it appears to me that the portion of truth 
which the doctrine contains, arises principally from 
the difference between a tax which can be saved 
from luxuries, and one which trenches, in ever so 
small a degree, upon the necessaries of life. To take 
a thousand a year from the possessor of ten thous- 
and, would not deprive him of anything really con- 
ducive either to the support or to the comfort of 
existence; and if such would be the effect of taking 
five pounds from one whose income is fifty, the sacri- 
fice required from the last is not only greater than, 
but entirely incommensurable with, that imposed 
upon the first. The mode of adjusting these inequal- 
ities of pressure which seems to be the most 
equitable, is that recommended by Bentham, of 
leaving a certain minimum of income, sufficient to 
provide the necessaries of life, untaxed. Suppose 
501. a year to be sufficient to provide the number of 
persons ordinarily supported from a single income, 
with the requisites of life and health, and with pro- 
tection against habitual bodily suffering, but not 
with any indulgence. This then, should be made the 
minimum, and incomes exceeding it should pay taxes 
not upon their whole amount, but upon the surplus, 
with a 11. a year, while an income of 1,0001. should 



DISTEIBUTION 61 

be considered as a net income of 101. and charged 
with a 11. a year, while an income of 1,0001, should 
be charged as one of 9501. Each then would pay a 
iixed proportion, not of his whole means, but of his 
superfluities. An income not exceeding 501. should 
not be taxed at all, either directly or by taxes on 
necessaries ; for as by supposition this is the smallest 
income which labor ought to be able to command, 
the government ought not to be a party to making 
it smaller. This arrangement, however, would con- 
stitute a reason, in addition to others which might 
be stated, for maintaining taxes on articles of luxury 
consumed by the poor. The immunity extended to 
the income required for necessaries, should depend 
on its being actually expended for that purpose ; and 
the poor who, not having more than enough for 
necessaries divert any part of it to indulgences, 
should like other people, contribute their quota out 
of those indulgences to the expenses of the State. 

The exemption in favor of the smaller incomes 
should not, I think, be stretched further than to the 
amount of income needful for life, health, and im- 
munity from bodily harm. If 501. a year is sufficient 
(which may be doubted) for these purposes, an in- 
come of 1001. a year would, as it seems to me, obtain 
all the relief it is entitled to, compared with one of 
1,0001., by being taxed only on 501. of its amount. 
It may be said, indeed, that to take 1001. from 1,0001. 
(even giving back five pounds) is a heavier impost 
than 1,0001. taken from 10,0001. (giving back the 
same five pounds). But this doctrine seems to me too 
disputable altogether, and even if true at all, not 
true to a sufficient extent, to be made the foundation 



62 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

of any rule of taxation. Whether the person with 
10,0001. a year cares less for 1,0001. than the person 
with only 1,0001. a year cares for 1001., and if so, 
how much less, does not appear to me capable of 
being decided with the degree of certainty on which 
a legislator or a financier ought to act. 

Some indeed contend that the rule of proportional 
taxation bears harder upon the moderate than upon 
the large incomes, because the same proportional 
payment has more tendency in the former case than 
in the latter, to reduce the payer to a lower grade 
of social rank. The fact appears to me more than 
questionable. But even admitting it, I object to its 
being considered incumbent on government to shape 
its course by such considerations, or to recognize the 
notion that social importance is or can be determined 
by amount of expenditure. Government ought to 
set an example of rating all things at their value, 
and riches, therefore at the worth, for comfort or 
pleasure, of the things which they will buy; and 
ought not to sanction the vulgarity of prizing them 
for the pitiful vanity of being known to possess 
them, or the paltry shame of being suspected to be 
without them, the presiding motives of three-fourths 
of the expenditure of the middle classes. The sacri- 
fices of real comfort or indulgence which govern- 
ment requires, it is bound to apportion among all 
persons with as much equality as possible, but their 
sacrifices of the imaginary dignity dependent on ex- 
pense, it may spare itself the trouble of estimating. 

Both in England and on the Continent a gradu- 
ated property-tax has been advocated, on the avowed 
ground that the State should use the instrument 



DISTEIBUTION 68 

of taxation as a means of mitigating the inequalities 
of wealth. I am as desirous as any one, that means 
should be taken to diminish those inequalities, but 
not so as to relieve the prodigal at the expense of the 
prudent. To tax the larger incomes, at a higher per- 
centage than the smaller, is to lay a tax on industry 
and economy; to impose a penalty on people for 
having worked harder and saved more than their 
neighbors. It is not the fortunes which are earned, 
but those which are unearned, that it is for the pub- 
lic good to place under limitation. A just and wise 
legislation would abstain from holding out motives 
for dissipating rather than saving the earnings of 
honest exertion. Its impartiality between com- 
petitors would consist in endeavoring that they 
should all start fair, and not in hanging a weight 
upon the swift to diminish the distance between 
them and the slow. Many, indeed, fail with greater 
efforts than those with which others succeed, not 
from difference of merits, but difference of oppor- 
tunities; but if all were done which it would be in 
the power of a good government to do, by instruction 
and by legislation, to diminish this inequality of op- 
portunities the differences of fortune arising from 
people's own earnings could not justly give umbrage. 
With respect to the large fortunes acquired by gift 
or inheritance, the power of bequeathing is one of 
those privileges of property which are fit subjects 
for regulation on grounds of general expediency; 
and I have already suggested, as a possible mode of 
restraining the accumulation of large fortunes in 
the hands of those who have not earned them by 
exertion, a limitation of the amount which any per- 



64 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

son should be permitted to acquire by gift, bequest, 
or inheritance. Apart from this, and from the pro- 
posal of Bentham (also discussed in a former chap- 
ter), that collateral inheritance in case of intestacy 
should cease, and the property escheat to the state, 
I conceive that inheritances and legacies, exceeding 
a certain amount, are highly proper subjects for 
taxation; and that the revenue from them should be 
as great as it can be made without giving rise to 
evasions by donation during life or concealment of 
property, such as it would be impossible adequately 
to check. The principle of graduation (as it is 
called), that is, of levying a larger percentage on a 
larger sum, though its application to general taxa- 
tion would be in my opinion objectionable, seems to 
me both just and expedient as applied to legacy and 
inheritance duties. 

The objection to a graduated property-tax ap- 
plies in an aggravated degree to the proposition of 
an exclusive tax on what is called ^'realized 
property," that is, property not forming a part of 
any capital engaged in business, or rather in busi- 
ness under the superintendence of the owner; as 
land, the public funds, money lent on mortgage, and 
shares (I presume) in joint-stock companies. Ex- 
cept the proposal of applying a sponge to the na- 
tional debt, no such palpable violation of common 
honesty has found sufficient support in this country, 
during the present generation, to be regarded as 
within the domain of discussion. It has not the 
palliation of a graduated property-tax, that of laying 
the burden on those best able to bear it; for 
'realized property' includes the far larger portion 



DISTEIBUTION 65 

of the provision made for those who are unable to 
work, and consists, in great part, of extremely small 
fractions. I can hardly conceive a more shameless 
pretension than that the major part of the property 
of the country, that of merchants, manufacturers, 
farmers, and shopkeepers, should be exempted from 
its share of taxation; that these classes should only 
begin to pay their proportion after retiring from 
business, and if they never retire should be excused 
from it altogether. But even this does not give an 
adequate idea of the injustice of the proposition. 
The burden thus exclusively thrown on the owners 
of the smaller portion of the wealth of the com- 
munity, would not even be a burden on that class of 
persons in perpetual succession, but would fall ex- 
clusively on those who happened to compose it when 
the tax was laid on. As land and those particular 
securities would thenceforth yield a smaller net in- 
come, relatively to the general interest of capital 
and to the profits of trade; the balance would rectify 
itself by a permanent depreciation of those kinds of 
property. Future buyers would acquire land and 
securities at a reduction of price, equivalent to the 
peculiar tax, which tax they would, therefore escape 
from paying; while the original possessors would 
remain burdened with it, even after parting with the 
property, since they would have sold their land or 
securities at a loss of value equivalent to the fee- 
simple of the tax. Its imposition would thus be 
tantamount to the confiscation for public uses of a 
percentage of their property, equal to the percentage 
laid on their income by the tax. That such a proposi- 
tion should find any favor is a striking instance of 



66 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

the want of conscience in matters of taxation, re- 
sulting from absence of any fixed principles in the 
public mind, and of any indication of a sense of 
justice on the subject in the general conduct of gov- 
ernments. Should the scheme ever enlist a large 
part in its support the fact would indicate a laxity 
of pecuniary integrity in national affairs, scarcely 
inferior to American repudiation." ^ 

The United States government clearly has the 
power to lay an income tax. If, however, an income 
tax is a direct tax it must be apportioned among the 
States. By this is meant that Congress must first 
determine the amount to be raised by such a tax and 
then divide the amount among the different States 
according to their population at the last previous 
census, the amount so apportioned to a State, to be 
then collected in that State. This would make the 
rate different in each State (probably at least twice 
as great in some States as in others) and work so 
great injustice that its levy in this manner would 
never be considered. 

It is therefore of the greatest importance whether 
an income tax is a direct or an indirect tax. This 
question has twice come before the Supreme Court 
of the United States. 

In Springer vs. United States,^ Judge Swajrne in 
delivering the opinion of the Court said: ''The cen- 
tral and controlling question in this case is whether 
the tax which was levied on the income, gains, and 
profits, of the plaintiff in error, as set forth in the 
record, and by pretended virtue of the Acts of 

* Mill's ''Principles of Political Economy," pp. 485-8. 
' 102 U. S. 586. 



DISTEIBUTION 67 

Congress and parts of acts therein mentioned, is a di- 
rect tax. If it was not, having been laid according to 
the requirements of the Constitution, it must be ad- 
mitted that the laws imposing it, and the proceedings 
taken under them by the assessor and collector for 
its imposition and collection were void. 

Our conclusions are that direct taxes, within 
the meaning of the Constitution, are only capitation 
taxes, as expressed in that instrument, and taxes on 
real estate ; and that the tax of which the plaintiff in 
error complains is within the catagory of an excise 
or duty." 

In 1895 the constitutionality of the income tax 
provisions of the Act of August 15, 1894, was twice 
argued before the Supreme Court. On April 8, 1895, 
the Court, one Justice being absent, decided in the 
cases of Pollock vs. Farmers' Loan and Trust Com- 
pany, and Hyde vs. Continental Trust Company:^ 

"A tax on the rents or income of real estate is a 
direct tax, within the meaning of the term as used 
in the Constitution of the United States. 

A tax upon income derived from the interest of 
bonds issued by a municipal corporation is a tax 
upon the power of the State and its instrumentalities 
to borrow money and is frequently repugnant to the 
Constitution of the United States. Upon each of the 
other questions argued at bar, to-wit: 

1. Whether the void provision as to rent and in- 
come invalidates the whole act? 2. Whether as to 
the income from personal property as such, the act 
is unconstitutional, as laying direct taxes'? 3. 
Whether any part of the tax, if not considered as a 

' 157 TJ. S. 



68 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

direct tax, is invalid for want of uniformity on either 
of the ground suggested? The justices who heard 
the argument were equally divided, and, therefore, 
no opinion is expressed." 

Upon a second hearing, held before a full Court, 
the entire law was declared unconstitutional on May 
20, 1895.^ Mr. Chief Justice Fuller delivered the 
opinion of the Court. ^'As heretofore stated the 
Constitution divided Federal taxation into two great 
classes, the class of direct taxes and the class of 
duties, imposts, and excises, and prescribed two 
rules which qualified the grant of power as to each 
class. ' 

The power to lay direct taxes, apportioned 
among the several States in proportion to their rep- 
resentation in the popular branch of Congress, a 
representation based on population as ascertained by 
the census, was plenary and absolute, but to lay 
direct taxes without apportionment was forbidden. 
The power to lay duties, imposts, and excises was 
subject to the qualification that the imposition must 
be uniform throughout the United States. Our 
previous decision was confined to the consideration 
of the validity of the tax on the income from real 
estate and on the income from municipal bonds. 
The question thus limited, was whether such taxa- 
tion was direct or not, in the meaning of the Consti- 
tution, and the Court went no further as to the tax 
on the incomes from real estate than to hold that it 
fell within the same class as the source whence the 
income was derived, that is, that the tax upon the 
realty and a tax upon the receipts therefrom were 

' 158 U. S. 



DISTEIBUTION 69 

alike direct; while as to the income from municipal 
bonds, that could not be taxed, because of want of 
power to tax the source, and no reference was made 
to the nature of the tax being direct or indirect. 

We are now permitted to broaden the field of 
inquiry and determine to which of the two great 
classes a tax upon a person's entire income, whether 
from rents or products or otherwise, of real estate, 
or from bonds, stocks or other forms of personal 
property, belong; and we are unable to conclude that 
the enforced subtraction from the yield of all the 
owner's real or personal property, in the manner 
prescribed, is so different from the tax upon the 
property itself that it is not a direct but an indirect 
tax in meaning of the Constitution. 

Whatever the speculative views of political 
economists or revenue reformers may be, can it be 
properly held that the Constitution, taken in its plain 
and obvious sense, and with due regard to the cir- 
cumstances attending the formation of the govern- 
ment, authorize a general unapportioned tax on the 
products of the farm and the rents of real estate, 
although imposed merely because of ownership and 
with no possible means of escape from payment, as 
belonging to a totally different class from that which 
includes the property from whence the income 
proceeds'? 

There can be only one answer, unless the con- 
stitutional restriction is to be treated as utterly il- 
lusory and futile, and the object of its framers de- 
feated. We find it impossible to hold that a funda- 
mental requisition, deemed so important as to be en- 
forced by two provisions, one affirmative and one 



70 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

negative, can be refined away by forced distinctions 
between that which gives value to property and the 
property itself. 

Nor can we conceive any ground why the same 
reasoning does not apply to capital in personalty held 
for the purpose of income or ordinarily yielding in- 
come, and to the income therefrom. All the real es- 
tate of the country and all its invested personal prop- 
erty are open to the direct operation of the taxing 
power if apportionment be made according to the 
Constitution. The Constitution does not say that no 
direct tax shall be laid by apportionment or any 
other property than land; on the contrary it forbids 
all unapportioned direct taxes; and we know of no 
warrant for excepting personal property from the 
exercise of the power, or any reason why any ap- 
portioned direct tax cannot be laid and assessed, as. 
Mr. Gallatin said in his report when Secretary of 
the Treasury in 1812, 'Upon the same objects of 
taxation of which the direct taxes levied under the 
authority of the State are laid and assessed.' 

The power to tax real and personal property 
and the income from both, there being an apportion- 
ment, is conceded. That such a tax is a direct tax in 
the meaning of the Constitution cannot be success- 
fully denied, and yet we are thus invited to hesitate 
in the enforcement of the mandate of the Constitu- 
tion which prohibits Congress from laying a direct 
tax on the revenue from property of the citizen with- 
out regard to the State lines, and in such manner 
that the States cannot intervene by payment in regu- 
lation of their own resources, lest a government of 
delegated powers should be found to be, not less 



DISTEIBUTION 71 

powerful, but less absolute, than the imagination of 
the advocate had supposed. 

First. Our conclusions may, therefore, be 
summed up as follows : 

We adhere to the opinion already announced, 
that taxes on real estate being indisputably direct 
taxes, taxes on the rents or incomes of real estate are 
equally direct taxes. 

Second. We are of opinion that taxes on per- 
sonal property, or the income of personal property, 
are likewise direct taxes. 

Third. The tax imposed by sections twenty- 
seven to thirty-seven, inclusive, of the Act of 1894, 
so far as it falls on the income of real estate and of 
personal property, being a direct tax within the 
meaning of the Constitution, and therefore unconsti- 
tutional and void, because not apportioned according 
to representation, all these sections, constituting one 
entire scheme of taxation, are necessarily invalid." 

Section 30. Protective Tariffs. 

The word tariff has several diverse meanings. Its 
most common meaning in the field of taxation is that 
of a list of duties imposed on articles imported into a 
country from foreign countries. A protective tariff 
is one designed not only to raise a revenue but also to 
protect home industries from foreign competition. 
The wisdom of protective tariffs has been the subject 
of much controversy not only among Political Econo- 
mists (the great majority of whom oppose protective 
tariffs) but also in the field of practical politics. 

That a protective tariff may be of great benefit 



72 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

to a country, under certain conditions, is proved both 
by theory and practical results. The adoption of a 
protective tariff is generally the only method by 
which a country not fully settled, where wages are 
high (not only per man but also per unit of work ac- 
compKshed), can get away from the position of a 
purely agricultural community and secure the estab- 
lishment of manufactures. That such an object is 
one highly to be desired is too clear to admit of much 
discussion. If every member of a community is en- 
gaged in agriculture, and all manufactured goods are 
purchased from abroad, the margin of cultivation, 
and consequently wages, must be much lower than if 
part of the members of the community are employed 
in manufactures. 

The wisdom of a protective tariff in an older 
country, where manufactures are already established, 
involves a more complicated question. In general, 
such a tariff will raise both wages and the price of 
goods. In other words, it will benefit the producer 
and injure the consumer (which will be largely the 
same people). This must be remembered, however, 
that it is the producer who must keep the country 
going, and that the workingman is in a much more 
independent position when he is spending his money 
than when he is asking for work. The true wisdom, 
therefore, seems to lie in that policy which will keep 
both capital and labor employed. 

It is also clear that domestic trade must be of in- 
finitely more importance to a country than foreign 
trade. 

*^The most advantageous employment of any cap- 
ital to the country to which it belongs is that which 



DISTEIBUTION 73 

maintains there the greatest quantity of productive 
labor and increases the most annual produce of the 
land and labor of that country. But the quantity of 
productive labor which any capital employed in the 
foreign trade of consumption can maintain is exactly 
in proportion, it has been shown in the second book, 
to the frequency of its returns. A capital of a thou- 
sand pounds, for example, employed in a foreign 
trade of consumption, of which the returns are made 
regularly once in the year, can keep in constant em- 
ployment in the country to which it belongs a quan- 
tity of productive labor equal to what a thousand 
poimds can maintain there for a year. If the returns 
are made twice or thrice in a year, it can keep in con- 
stant employment a quantity of productive labor 
equal to what two or three thousand pounds can 
maintain there for a year. A foreign trade of con- 
sumption carried on with a country is, upon this 
account, in general, more advantageous than one car- 
ried on with a distant country; and for the same 
reason a direct foreign trade of consumption, as it 
has likewise been shown in the second book, is in 
general more advantageous than a roundabout 
one."^^ 

That a protective tariff, however, can be raised 
to such a point as to become a burden rather than a 
protection to the nation, must be admitted by all 
candid men, 

"Smith's "Wealth of Nations," Book IV., Chap. VII., Part III. 



CHAPTER IV. 
CONSUMPTION. 

Section 31. Place of Consumption in the Study of 
Political Economy. 

Many of the prominent earlier writers of Political 
Economy omitted a treatment of the subject of Con- 
sumption entirely from their work, in the thought 
that the private consumption by individuals was out- 
side the scope of the subject. Such a view, however, 
was a very narrow one and now has been abandoned. 
It is now recognized that consumption is an integral 
part of the science of political economy, having an 
important bearing upon the subjects of production, 
distribution and exchange. 

The incentive to labor is to secure goods for con- 
sumption, and goods must be consumed in produc- 
tion. The nature and importance of consumption is 
thus summed up by Professor Ely: 

"Consumption in economics means the use of 
goods in the satisfaction of human wants, which is 
the purpose of a large part of our economic activity, 
but it is not the sole purpose, since activity is to a 
certain extent an end in itself. Nevertheless, in 
economic society as it is organized today we are per- 
haps justified in looking upon consumption as the mo- 

75 



76 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

tive force beyond production. Wants are so far from 
satisfied at present that men look for work not be- 
cause they seek to be rid of surplus energy but be- 
cause they crave the goods which their wages will 
buy. The power of unrestricted consumption seems 
to be the prevailing ideal. Industry, furthermore, 
is organized and conducted primarily to satisfy the 
consumer, not the worker.''^ 

Consumption is of two kinds: productive con- 
sumption and final consumption. Productive con- 
sumption is where goods are consumed in the pro- 
duction of others; for example, in the case of any 
factory, we find not only the consimaption of the raw 
materials which actually go into the finished article 
but also the consumption of the coal used to run the 
machinery, the gradual wearing out of the machinery 
itself, etc. Final consumption is where goods are 
consumed to satisfy human wants. 

The second class of consumption only wiU be con- 
sidered in this chapter. 

Section 32. Wants and Utilities. 

Goods are consumed for the sole purpose of satis- 
fying some human want. What are human wants are 
to be determined from an economic standpoint by 
each person for himself. A want which may have a 
very injurious effect upon the party possessing the 
same will have the same economic force as a want 
which will conduce to his well-being. Any commod- 
ity which will satisfy, or tend to satisfy, a human 
want, or which a person believes will satisfy, or tend 

^ Ely 's ' ' Outlines on Economics, ' ' p. 106. 



CONSUMPTION 77 

to satisfy, a human want, has economic utility. In 
discussing utilities we must consider absolute utili- 
ties, relative utilities, and marginal utilities. 

Absolute utilities consist in the inherent charac- 
teristics residing in the article itself. The relative 
utilities of various articles become of importance 
when a person, being unable to secure all the com- 
modities which he desires to satisfy his wants, is 
obliged to decide as to what commodities will secure 
to him the greatest comfort and pleasure. 

Marginal utility is the utility of the last unit of 
any commodity consumed. Marginal utilities will 
be explained in the next section. 

Section 33. Diminishing Utility and Marginal 

Utility. 

The utility of any commodities to any person 
varies in accordance with the amount of that com- 
modity which has been consumed. This law of the 
variation of utility was first worked out by Jevons 
in his work on "The Theory of Political Economy," 
an extract of which is here inserted: 

"Let us now investigate this subject a little more 
closely. Utility must be considered as measured by, 
or even as actually identical with, the addition made 
to a person's happiness. It is a convenient name for 
the aggregate of the favorable balance of feeling pro- 
duced—the sum of the pleasure created and the pain 
prevented. We must now carefully discriminate be- 
tween the total utility arising from any commodity 
and the utility attaching to any particular portion of 
it. Thus the total utility of the food which we eat 



78 



POLITICAL ECONOMY 



consists in maintaining life, and may be considered 
as infinitely great, but if we were to subtract a tenth 
part from what we eat daily our loss would be but 
slight. We should certainly not lose a tenth part of 
the whole utility of food to us. It might be doubtful 
whether we should suffer any harm at all. 

Let us imagine the whole quantity of food which 
a person consumes on an average during the twenty- 
four hours to be divided into ten equal parts. If his 
food be reduced by the last part he will suffer but 
little; if a second tenth part be deficient he will feel 
the want distinctly; the subtraction of the third tenth 
part will be decidedly injurious. With every subse- 
quent subtraction of a tenth part his sufferings will 
be more and more serious, until at length he will be 
upon the verge of starvation. Now, if we call each 
of the tenth parts an increment, the meaning of these 
facts is that each increment of food is less necessary, 
or possesses less utility, than the previous one. To 
explain this variation of utility we may make use of 
space-representations, which I have found con- 
venient in illustrating the laws of Economics in my 
College lectm'es during fifteen years past. 







p' 



Ltd 



B 



iTLmTZYmmimTXix x 



CONSUMPTION 79 

Let the line ox be used as a measure of the quan- 
tity of food, and let it be divided into ten equal parts 
to correspond to the ten portions of food mentioned 
above. Upon these equal lines are constructed rec- 
tangles, and the area of each rectangle may be as- 
sumed to represent the utility of the increment of 
food corresponding to its base. Thus the utility of 
the last increment is small, being proportional to the 
small rectangle on x. As we approach towards o 
each increment bears a larger rectangle, that stand- 
ing upon 3 being the largest complete rectangle. The 
utility of the next increment, 2, is undefined, as also 
that of 1, since these portions of food would be in- 
dispensable to life, and their utility, therefore, in- 
finitely great. 

We can now form a clear notion of the utility 
of the whole food, or of any part of it, for we have 
only to add together the proper rectangles. The 
utility of the first half of the food will be the sum of 
rectangles standing on the line oa; that of the second 
half will be represented by the sum of the small rec- 
tangles between a and b. The total utility of the 
food will be the whole sum of the rectangles and will 
be infinitely great. 

The comparative utility of the several portions 
is, however, the most important point. Utility may 
be treated as a quantity of two dimensions, one di- 
mension consisting in the quantity of the commodity 
and another in the intensity of the effect produced 
upon the consumer. Now, the quantity of the com- 
modity is measured on the horizontal line ox, and 
the intensity of utility will be measured by the length 
of the upright lines, or ordinates. The intensity of 



80 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

utility of the third increment is measured either by 
pq or p'q' and its utility is the product of the units 
in pp' multiplied by those in pq. 

But the division of the food into ten equal parts 
is an arbitrary supposition. If we had taken twenty 
or a hundred or more equal parts the same general 
principle would hold true, namely, that each small 
portion would be less useful and necessary than the 
last. The law may be considered to hold true theoret- 
ically, however small the increments are made; and in 
this way we shall at last reach a figure which is un- 
distinguishable from a continuous curve. The notion 
of infinitely small quantities of food may seem ab- 
surd as regards the consumption of one individual; 
but when we consider the consumption of a nation as 
a whole the consumption may well be conceived to in- 
crease or diminish by quantities, which are, prac- 
tically speaking, infinitely small compared with the 
whole consumption. The laws which we are about to 
trace out are to be conceived as theoretically true of 
the individual; they can only be practically verified 
as regards the aggregate transactions, productions 
and consumptions of a large body of people. But 
the laws of the aggregate depend, of course, upon 
the laws applying to individual cases. 

The law of the variation of the degree of utility 
of food may thus be represented by a continuous 
curve pbq (Fig. IV) and the perpendicular height 
of each point of utility of the commodity when a 
certain amount has been consumed. 

Thus, when the quantity oa has been consumed, 
the degree of utility corresponds to the length of the 
line ab; for if we take a very little more food, aa', its 



CONSUMPTIOlSr 



81 



utility will be the product of aa', and ab, very nearly, 
and more nearly the less is the magnitude of aa'. The 



Y 


\ 


p 












\b . 










T 




^% 










---Jt 





^ 


A / 


( / 


^' 


N s 



degree of utility is thus properly measured by the 
height of a very narrow rectangle corresponding to 
a very small quantity of food, which theoretically 
ought to be infinitely small. "^ 

The degree of the utility of the last unit of any 
commodity consumed is its marginal utility. 



Section 34. Relative Utility. 

The problem of any person with a certain income 
to expend is not only to expend such income in the 
consumption of commodities which will possess util- 
ity to him but to expend such income in the consump- 
tion of such commodity and in such amounts of such 
commodity as will give to him the highest possible 
sum total of utility. 

If this problem should be worked out by any man 
to the highest possible degree of scientific accuracy, 
it would be found that the marginal utility of all 
commodities of which he had consumed any quantity 
would be the same, and that such marginal utility 
would be greater than the utility of the first unit of 
any other commodity. Of course, with human nature 

=* Jevon's "The Theory of Political Economy," pp. 45-49. 



82 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

in its present condition any such scientific system of 
consumption is impossible of complete attainment, 
but any wise system of expenditure will approach 
to this ideal position. The truth of this statement in 
theory can be readily proved. If the marginal utility 
of one commodity consumed was greater than that 
of another, it is evident that the party would receive 
the highest total degree of comfort and pleasure by 
decreasing his consumption of the second article and 
increasing that of the first. 

Again, if the marginal utility of every commodity 
which the party consumes any amount is greater 
than the utility of the first unit of any other com- 
modity would be to him, it is evident that he would 
lose in comfort and pleasure by reducing the amount 
of the consumption of any of the articles which he 
consumes for the purpose of adding a small quantity 
of some other conunodity to the list. 

Section 35. Order of Consumption — Necessaries, 
Comforts, Luxuries. 

It is evident that there are certain commodities 
or classes of commodities which must fimd a place 
among the articles consumed by every human being. 
These are the articles without which it would be im- 
possible to sustain existence itself. Such articles are 
known as necessities, and until a sufficient supply of 
necessities have been consumed no share of any in- 
come can be used in the consumption of any other 
class of articles. 

The term comfort and luxury are applied to those 
articles which might add to the well being and pleas- 
ure of a person, but are not absolutely indispensable 



CONSUMPTION 83 

to Ms existence. As the terms are used, luxury re- 
fers to articles which are more easily dispensed with 
than comforts. It is hard to draw any hard and fast 
line of demarcation between these three classes of 
commodities. As good a distinction as any that has 
been given is as follows : 

Necessaries are those articles where an increase 
in price will be followed by an increase in the total 
amount paid for such commodities in the community; 
comforts are those articles where, although the price 
is increased, the total amount paid for such com- 
modity in the community will remain about the same; 
luxuries are those articles where an increase in price 
will result in a smaller total amount being paid for 
such articles in the community. 

In other words, in the case of necessaries, con- 
sumption will be reduced in a smaller ratio than the 
price increases ; in the case of comforts, consumption 
will be reduced in the same ratio as the price in- 
creases; while in the case of luxuries, consumption 
will be decreased in a greater ratio than that in 
which the price increases. 

Professor Engel of Prussia spent many years in 
attempting to show by statistics the proportion of 
various incomes of various sizes which would be 
spent for the various classes of commodities. From 
the statistics which he collected he deduced the fol- 
lowing rules : 

** First — That the greater the income, the smaller 
the relative percentage of outlay for subsistence. 

Second — That the percentage of outlay for 
clothing is approximately the same, whatever the in- 
come. 



84 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Third — That the percentage of outlay for lodg- 
ing or rent, and for fuel and light, is invariably the 
same, whatever the income. 

Fourth — That as the income increases in amount 
the percentage of outlay for sundries becomes 
greater." 

Section 36. Postponed Consumption. 

So far we have been discussing consumption upon 
the theory that a person would expend each year his 
total income for that year. The principle of con- 
sumption, however, is complicated by the fact that 
there are many reasons to induce a person to post- 
pone the consumption of a portion of his income; or, 
in other words, to save a portion of his income. The 
factors which will determine whether a person will 
save anything, and, if so, how large a portion of his 
income, are numerous, and in the main psychological 
rather than economic. 

Three principles on this subject, however, may be 
laid down: First, the inducements to present con- 
sumption are in the great majority of mankind 
greater than those for postponed consumption: sec- 
ond, a sufficient part of an income must always be 
expended at the present time to secure the neces- 
sities of life; third, a person will save that portion of 
his income remaining after the marginal utility of 
the part consumed has been reduced to a point where 
it is less than the degree of utility which the party 
believes will result from the further enjoyment, 
either to the party himself or those dependent upon 
him, from the saving of the remainder of the income. 



CONSUMPTION 85 

Section 37. Eif ects of Saving Upon Production and 
Distribution. 

The question is often argued as to the respective 
effect upon the community as a whole of spending 
and saving. It is impossible to give an answer as to 
the relative merits of the two which will be true in 
all cases. 

A certain degree of saving is absolutely necessary 
for a civilized community. Without saving there 
would be no accumulation of capital, and without 
accumulation of capital mankind would in time re- 
vert into a state of barbarism. Furthermore, in- 
creased capital, as has been shown in previous chap- 
ters, by competition will reduce interest and increase 
wages. 

On the other hand, too great a degree of saving 
would be almost as fatal to the welfare of the com- 
munity as a too small degree. Saving reduces the 
demand for commodities, and if this is carried too 
far it will result in so reducing the market for com- 
modities as to reduce wages and throw men out of 
employment. Especially in what are known as 
*'hard times" consumption is much more beneficial 
to the community as a whole than saving. On the 
whole, it may be said that the general welfare of the 
community is promoted by as great a degree of 
saving as possible in the case of moderate incomes, 
and by as great a degree of consumption and expen- 
diture as possible in the case of large incomes. 



CHAPTER V. 

EXCHANGIE. 

Section 38. Definitions. 

Exchange is that branch of the science of Political 
Economy which treats of the exchange of one com- 
modity for another. Exchanges, of course, are made 
because each party to it believes that the article 
which he receives has greater utility to him than the 
one he gives in return therefor. The ratios at which 
different articles are exchanged are determined by 
their values. 

The distinction must be carefully noted between 
utility and value. Utility is enjoyed by consumption, 
value is power in exchange. The utility of an article 
may vary in the case of each individual, while the 
value of an article must be the same to everyone who 
has access to the same market. 

The utility of a dollar will be much greater to a 
laborer than to a millionaire, but the purchasing 
value is the same to each. 

(In this chapter value is used throughout as the 
equivalent of exchange value, which is believed to be 
the proper use of the term in Political Economy.) 

Section 39. What Determines Value. 

The value of an article is not determined either 
by what it cost to produce it or what it would cost to 

87 



88 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

reproduce a similar article. Labor may have been 
wasted in the production, or the article produced 
may have no real utility for anyone. On the other 
hand, through various causes an article may acquire 
a value far in excess of the cost of producing it. 

Value is determined entirely by the relation be- 
tween supply and demand. If the supply of any arti- 
cle exceeds the demand, the sellers in their competi- 
tion will force down the price, while if the demand 
exceeds the supply the competition of the buyers will 
force the price up. This principle may be explained 
more in detail as follows: At every possible price 
for an article there are a certain number of prospec- 
tive purchasers and also of prospective sellers; the 
lower the price the greater the number of prospec- 
tive purchasers and the fewer the number of pros- 
pective sellers; the higher the price the fewer the 
number of prospective buyers and the greater the 
number of prospective sellers. The price, at any 
given time, will be that price at which the number of 
prospective buyers and of prospective sellers are the 
same. 

Although the cost of production does not deter- 
mine value, a close relation is to be observed between 
the two. The amount of the supply will be very 
largely determined by the cost of production, which 
will thus indirectly help to regulate value. 

Value also reacts on production. High value 
(i. e., high prices) will encourage production and al- 
low articles to be produced which, not being pro- 
duced under the most favorable circumstances, can- 
not be profitably produced where prices are low. 
Low prices will reduce production. These results 



EXCHANGE 89 

have the e:ffect of tending to prevent prices from 
surviving too far in either direction. 

In the case of monopolies the prices of an article 
are no longer governed by the law of supply and de- 
mand.^ 

Section 40. Mediums of Exchange. 

Exchanges are effected by the use of barter, 
money, or credit. Money, however, has other duties 
to perform than that of acting as a medium of ex- 
change. The various functions of money are gener- 
ally described as being those of a medium of ex- 
change, a measure of value, a standard of value or a 
standard of deferred payments, and a store of value. 
This subject is treated in full in the volume on '* Cur- 
rency, Banking, and Exchange." 

* See Section 26. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ECONOMIC HISTORY. 

Section 41. — Periods of Economic History. 

The division into periods of man's economic his- 
tory which is so old as to have ahnost become classic, 
is that into the hunting stage, the pastoral stage and 
the agricultm'al stage. Recent writers on this sub- 
ject have added to these three stages the handicraft 
stage and the industrial stage. 

Little need be said of the condition of man during 
the hunting stage. During this period we find man 
existing by seeking and appropriating the food fur- 
nished by nature without taking any steps towards 
producing food for his own consumption. Manufac- 
tures, except rude weapons, and trade, are entirely 
wanting during this period. 

The hunting stage is the natural state of the un- 
civilized race and the pastoral that of the semi-civil- 
ized. In the pastoral stage man, instead of depending 
on the chance finding of the animals which furnish 
his food, raises and cares for such animals. In this 
stage, the rights of personal property are recognized, 
but not of real property. Trade and manufactures 
are still pf very secondary importance. 

In the agricultural stage man acquires a perma- 

91 



93 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

nent residence and respects rights of property, 
in realty as well as personalty. In tlie early agri- 
cultural stage trade and commerce remain compara- 
tively small in amount and each individual, or at least 
each family, supply practically all their needs by 
their own labor. 

The purely agricultural stage, however, is soon 
supplanted by a state of society where agriculture 
and manufacture become differentiated, part of the 
community devoting their labors to the one, and the 
remainder to the other. Where this division takes 
place we have first the handicraft and next the indus- 
trial stage. 

The differences between these two stages are 
explained by Prof. Ely in his "Outlines of Eco- 
nomics," as follows: 

**This stage begins with the development of towns 
as centers of trade and handicraft in the latter part 
of the middle ages, and extends to the introduction 
of power manufacture in the latter part of the eigh- 
teenth century. During such a long period many 
changes took place in the economic life of the people 
of Europe, but so far as the expansion and satisfac- 
tion of wants is concerned, — the power over nature, 
— ^the whole period is in marked contrast with the 
modern era of machine production. 

The growth of trade in the town brought with it 
the merchant gild, the purpose of which was to reg- 
ulate the conduct of trade and to keep a monopoly 
of it for the merchants of the town. Merchant gilds 
appeared in all the larger towns of England in the 
twelfth century. But a new class was developing in 



ECONOMIC HISTOKY 93 

the towns — ^the craftsmen who were engaged in the 
making of things for sale. As this handicraft grew 
in importance, the merchant gild was superseded by 
the craft gild, which in England attained its fullest 
development in the first half of the fourteenth cen- 
tury. Each craft had its gild, which specified in 
detail how the business should be carried on, how 
many should be admitted to it, and how the trade 
should be learned. This growth in specialization 
meant also the growth in trade, but in this early part 
of the handicraft period, commerce was much re- 
stricted as compared with that of the present day. 
The towns made exchanges mostly with the country 
surrounding them, there being as yet no national or 
world market of any importance. Plainly, such a 
general system of exchange cannot be carried on by 
barter, and in this period money became increasingly 
important. 

The agricultural stage had, in the greater part 
of Europe, culminated in the feudal system. The no- 
bility maintained order and attended to the fighting, 
while the serfs tilled the soil. The manufacturing 
cities became the rivals of the feudal lords, who felt 
their power threatened, and hence they bitterly op- 
posed the cities. The cities were free and the 
serfs who fled to them were accepted and made 
freemen. * * * * 

"The decay of the town authority did not 
imply that industry and commerce were left to the 
free play of competition. The supervision of the 
central government took the place of that of the 
towns. The national system of regulation has been 
called the Mercantile System, which prevailed in 



94 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

England in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and most of 
the eighteenth centuries. Its essential idea is the 
guidance of economic affairs in such a way as to in- 
crease the commercial and military power of the 
nation as a whole. The navigation laws which the 
student has met with in his study of American his- 
tory were a part of this system. An attempt was 
made to create a 'favorable' balance of trade and to 
maintain a good supply of the precious metals. Agri- 
culture was fostered with the aim of promoting the 
growth of population. The mercantile system has 
often been described as consisting chiefly of trade 
restrictions, but it is the contention of Professor 
SchmoUer that in its essence the system meant 'the 
replacing of local and territorial economic policy by 
that of the national state.' Within the nation it 
tended to make trade free. 

"It was characteristic of the mercantile system 
too, to interfere in the conduct of internal trade. 
Prices, wages, and the rules of apprenticeship were 
fixed by public authority. The quality of goods was 
inspected by public officials. Patents of monopoly 
on the sale of certain commodities, such as gun pow- 
der, matches, and playing cards, were extensively 
granted by royal authority to favored individuals 
or companies, ostensibly to foster new indus- 
tries. * * * * 

''In the latter part of the eighteenth century, the 
slow-going methods of the handicraft stage were 
radically changed by the Industrial Revolution. The 
fundamental feature of this change is the introduc- 
tion of power manufacture. * * * 

"The passage from the handicraft to the Indus- 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 95 

trial stage in England is generally known as the In- 
dustrial Revolution. It has been objected that this 
term is misleading, because the introduction of the 
modern factory system required many years and was 
but the working out of conditions that had been long 
maturing. It is true that the growth in the division 
of labor, the expansion of commerce and the techni- 
cal progress of former ages were necessary prelimi- 
naries to the industrial revolution, but there is little 
danger of overemphasizing the importance or the ra- 
pidity of the change. The period from 1770 to 1840, 
the span of a single life, is, after all, a short period 
from the standpoint of the historian. Yet the 
changes of this period swept away the inefficient 
methods that had been used for centuries and caused 
profound modifications in social structure.''^ 

Section 42. Economic History of Various Countries 

and Ages. 

There has been no uniformity between different 
nations and races as to the time in which they passed 
through the various economic ages. While we find 
races existing in the hunting stage today, on the 
other hand we find a high degree of commercial and 
industrial development in Babylon. 

The following extracts from some of the world's 
leading historians give some account of the indus- 
trial and commercial conditions among the early 
races: 

*'The Hindus in their most ancient works of 
poetry are represented as a commercial people. And 
it is one evidence of the prosperity and well-being 

^ Ely's Outlines of Economics, pp. 35-42. 



96 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

of a country, tliat its merchaiits can travel from one 
place to another with perfect security to themselves 
and their merchandise. But, further, the regulations 
of society appear to have awarded a high rank to 
persons who were employed in the business of com- 
merce. In the Ramayana we are informed that at 
the triumphal entry of Rama into his capital *all the 
men of distinction, together with the merchants and 
chief men of the people,' went out to meet htm; and 
the procession is closed by the warriors, tradesmen 
and artisans. 

The internal commerce of India could not have 
been inconsiderable, as it was in a certain degree pre- 
scribed by nature herself. For the sandy shores of 
the peninsula, not producing in sufficient quantity 
the first necessaries of life, and particularly rice, the 
importation of these articles from the country bor- 
dering on the Ganges became absolutely indispensa- 
ble, in return for which the latter received chiefly 
spices, and, among other valuables, precious stones, 
and the fine pearls only to be procured in the ocean 
which surrounds the former. Although cotton, one 
of the most important materials used for clothing, is 
common all over India, and manufactured with the 
same activity on the coasts of the peninsula as in the 
land of the Ganges, yet the fabric of the two coun- 
tries differs so much in texture that a commercial 
interchange of both kinds would naturally be intro- 
duced. 

The great quantity of the precious metals, par- 
ticularly gold, possessed by India may well excite 
our attention and surprise. Though it had neither 
gold nor silver mines, it has always been celebrated 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 97 

even in the earliest times for its riches. The Rama- 
yana frequently mentions gold as in abundant circu- 
lation throughout the country. And the nuptial 
present made to Sita, we are told, consisted of a 
whole measure of gold pieces and a vast quantity of 
the same precious metal in ingots. Golden chariots, 
golden trappings for elephants and horses, and 
golden bells are also noticed as articles of luxury 
and magnificence; and it has been already shown, in 
the course of our inquiries into Phoenician commerce, 
that the Hindus were the only people subject to that 
empire who paid their tribute in gold and not in sil- 
ver. The quantity of this metal then current in India 
will therefore enable us to infer, with reason, the 
existence of a considerable foreign commerce and 
trade with the gold countries. 

Without doubt commercial transactions with 
India during the time of the Romans, and for some 
time afterwards, were principally carried on in ready 
money, which is more than once mentioned as an 
article of importation. And who does not recollect 
the complaints of the elder Pliny of the vast sums 
annually absorbed by the commerce with India? 
How, indeed, could the case have been otherwise, 
when a country which produced in superabundance 
every possible article, whether required for the nec- 
essaries of life or the refinements of luxury, would, 
of course, export a great deal, while it imported little 
or nothing in return, so that the commercial balance 
would always be in its favor? Hence, it followed 
that from the moment she possessed a foreign com- 
merce India would enrich herself with the precious 
metals by a necessary consequence from the very 



98 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

nature of things and not by any fortuitous concourse 
of circumstances. ' '^ 

"The nature of the country, however, rendered 
the internal commerce of India different from that 
of the rest of Asia in respect of transportation, for 
it was not necessary, nor indeed was it always possi- 
ble to employ caravans, as in the extensive tracts of 
inner Asia. That this mode of conveyance was 
nevertheless occasionally resorted to we learn from 
the beautiful episode of Nala, where Damayanti in 
her flight is represented to have joined a caravan of 
merchants. But the beasts of burden made use of 
in this instance are tame elephants, which were 
therefore attacked in the night and dispersed by 
their wild brethren of the forest; and, besides, the 
caravan in question appears to have belonged to some 
royal personage rather than to a company of private 
merchants. The greatest part of India — that is to 
say, the whole of the peninsula, being traversed 
with rocky mountains — would scarcely, if at all, ad- 
mit of the employment of camels ; and the moderate 
distances between one town and another, and the 
general spread of civilization, would enable mer- 
chants to travel alone with perfect security, while 
river navigation and the coasting trade afforded un- 
usual facilities for transporting merchandise. 

The Ganges and its tributary streams were the 
grand commercial routes of northern India, and men- 
tion is also made of navigation on the rivers of the 
peninsula in the south. It is not improbable, indeed, 
that artificial canals in aftertimes existed even at an 
earlier period. The great highroads across the coun- 

*Mountstuart Elphustove, The History of India. 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 99 

try are not only frequently mentioned in the Ramay- 
ana but we also read of a particular class of men who 
were commissioned to keep them in repair. According 
to Arrian, the commercial intercourse between the 
eastern and western coasts was carried on in coun- 
try-built vessels ; and when we consider the high an- 
tiquity of the pearl fisheries in the Straits of Ceylon, 
together with the necessary requisites thereto, we 
can hardly doubt that such was also the case many 
hundred years before his time. It would appear, 
then, that conveyance of merchandise by means of 
a caravan, as in India, unless the multitudes of pil- 
grims and penitents that were continually resorting 
to places of sanctity, may be said to have compen- 
sated for the want of it. The almost innumerable 
crowds that yearly flock to Benares, Jagannath and 
elsewhere, amounting to many hundred thousands of 
souls, would obviously give rise to a species of com- 
merce united with devotion, and markets and fairs 
would be a natural and indeed an indispensable 
requisite to satisfy the wants of such throngs of peo- 
ple. And consequently, too, the establishments 
called choultries, the erection of which was consid- 
ered a religious duty, and whose forms not infre- 
quently displayed all the magnificence of native 
architecture, might be said to have a similar destina- 
tion with the caravanseries of other Eastern coun- 
tries, without, however, the resemblance between the 
two being exactly perfect. 

The nature of the country and its productions, 
together with the peculiar genius of the people them- 
selves, both contributed to render Hindu commerce 
of a passive rather than an a<3tive diaracft^. For, as 



100 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

the productions of India were always in high request 
with the Western world, the Hindus would clearly 
have no occasion to transport them to foreign coun- 
tries themselves; they would, of course, expect the 
inhabitants of the latter to come and fetch what they 
wanted. And, again, the Hindu national character 
has no pretensions to that hardy spirit of adventure 
which is capable of achieving the most extraordinary 
undertakings. While their fables abound with pro- 
digious enterprise, the people themselves are con- 
tent to lead a quiet and peaceful life, with just so 
much activity as is requisite to guide the plough or 
direct the shuttle, without running the risk of haz- 
ardous and unnecessary adventure. Their India — 
their Jambu-dvipa — comprised in their estimation 
the limits of the known world. Separated from the 
rest of Asia by a chain of impassable mountains on 
the north, while on all other sides the ocean formed 
a barrier, which, if their laws are silent on the sub- 
ject, yet at least their habits or their customs would 
not permit them to transgress; we can find no cer- 
tain proof that the Hindus were ever mariners."^ 

''Commerce appears in Homer's descriptions to 
be familiar enough to the Greeks of the heroic age 
but not to be held in great esteem. Yet in the Odys- 
sey we find the goddess, who assumes the person of 
a Taphian chief, professing that she is on her way 
to Temesa with a cargo of iron to be exchanged for 
copper; and in the Iliad, Jason's son, the prince of 
Lemnos, appears to carry on an active traffic with 
the Greeks before Troy. He sends a number of ships 
freighted with wine, for which the purchasers pay, 

'James Mill's History of British India. 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 101 

some in copper, some in iron, some in hides, some in 
cattle, some in slaves. Of the use of money the poet 
gives no hint either in this description or elsewhere. 
He speaks of the precious metals only as commodi- 
ties, the value of which was in all cases determined 
by weight. The Odyssey represents Phoenician trad- 
ers as regularly frequenting the Greek ports ; but as 
Phoenician slaves are sometimes brought to Greece, 
so the Phoenicians do not scruple, even where they 
are received as friendly merchants, to carry away 
Greek children into slavery."* 

"The establishment of colonies in the East gave 
more substantial foundation to Italy's prosperity. 
Several cities, whose own interest was a constant 
stimulus, and whose industry grew with success, 
founded trading colonies in Egypt, Africa, through- 
out the kingdom of Jerusalem; at Tyre, where the 
Pisans had formed a celebrated commercial group; 
at Antioch; at Acre, stronghold of the Christians; at 
several other places which the Crusades had opened 
to them; and as a result the principal cause of the 
decline of Venice and other powerful Italian cities 
was not alone the discovery of the Cape of Good 
Hope but to some extent the conquests which made 
Selim I Master of Egypt. 

Before the days of the holy wars some of the 
Italian towns already possessed trading stations in 
the Greek Empire, but Constantinople, having fallen 
into the hands of the Latins, the active spirit of the 
Italians was no longer disturbed by the defiant pohcy 
of the Eastern emperors. The Genoese founded the 
colony of Kaffa, which became very prosperous; the 

" Thirlwall 's History of Greece. 



102 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Venetians and Pisans multiplied their warehouses in 
many places. The subjects of the doge, always mind- 
ful of their commerce, demanded the islands of the 
archipelago in dividing with the French the terri- 
tory wrested from the Eastern Empire; but at the 
moment of taking possession of their share they 
feared to weaken themselves by occupying territory 
so remote and widely separated. In the end, how- 
ever, they could not bring themselves to let go a 
maritime country so well adapted to trade, and the 
senate invited by proclamation the rich citizens to 
take possession of these isles, promising to give in 
fief those they succeeded in making subjects of 
themselves. Thus it happened that the descendants 
of the Greeks, once so jealous of their political in- 
dependence, saw, so to speak, their freedom at the 
auction block in the public squares of Venice. 

And thus it was that the Crusades ruined the 
Greeks and the Arabs, and that traffic between the 
East and the West had to pass almost exclusively 
through the hands of the Italians, then called Lom- 
bards, active, sharp merchants and pitiless usurers, 
who have left their names as a monument to their 
thrift upon the commercial streets of many a great 
town; those localities where the money lender, fur- 
nishing more often a passing aid to extravagance 
than real assistance to misery, exhibits his insatiable 
greed. They tried, in the twelfth century, to create 
merchant tribunals in several towns to decide com- 
mercial jurisprudence from common law. We shall 
be forgiven doubtless for not entering into any mi- 
nute description of the Italian commercial estab- 
lishments in Greece and Asia; it has been sufficient 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 103 

to note the turn given by the Crusades to trade in 
general. 

The flourishing condition to which Venice, 
Genoa and Pisa in the south of Europe were raised 
by trade with the East was almost equaled in the 
sea; all the products of colder climes offered to the 
Teutonic Hansa large and assured profits. As the 
Lombards brought into parts of Germany, where 
money was scarce, the products of the South and 
East there sprang up an exchange of merchandise 
for merchandise. The Hanseatic League apparently 
came into existence about the beginning of the thir- 
teenth century, and it is not hard to believe that the 
commercial activity stimulated by the Crusades fa- 
vored the formation of the powerful federation 
which breathed nothing but the love of gain, and 
which bartered for all the wealth of the South with 
all the product of the North. "^ 

The fall of the Roman Empire was followed by 
centuries of industrial and commercial retrogres- 
sion. The evolution of modern institutions out of 
the darkness of mediaeval Europe is treated in detail 
by Adam Smith in his ** Wealth of Nations." 

The following extracts will also show the evil 
influences of many ancient industrial institutions, 
some of which have not yet been entirely abandoned. 

*'When the German and Scythian nations over- 
ran the western provinces of the Roman Empire the 
confusions which followed so great a revolution 
lasted for several centuries. The rapine and vio- 
lence which the barbarians exercised against the an- 
cient inhabitants interrupted the commerce between 

"Choiseul d'Aillecourt de 1 'influence des Croisades. 



104 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

the towns and the country. The towns were de- 
serted and the country was left uncultivated, and the 
western provinces of Europe, which had enjoyed a 
considerable degree of opulence under the Roman 
empires, sunk into the lowest degree of poverty and 
barbarism. During the continuance of those con- 
fusions the chiefs and principal leaders of those na- 
tions acquired or usurped to themselves the greater 
part of the lands of those countries. A great part of 
them was uncultivated; but no part of them, whether 
cultivated or uncultivated, was left without a pro- 
prietor. All of them were engrossed, and the greater 
part by a few great proprietors. 

This original engrossing of uncultivated lands, 
though great, might have been but a transitory evil. 
They might soon have been divided again and broke 
into small parcels either by succession or by aliena- 
tion. The law of primogeniture hindered them from 
being divided by succession; the introduction of en- 
tails prevented their being broken into small parcels 
by alienation. 

When land, like movables, is considered as the 
means only of subsistence and enjoyment, the nat- 
ural law of succession divides it, like them, among 
all the children of the family, of all of whom the sub- 
sistence and enjojrment may be supposed equally 
dear to the father. This natural law of succession 
accordingly took place among the Romans, who made 
no more distinction between elder and younger, be- 
tween male and female, in the inheritance of lands, 
than we do in the distribution of movables. But 
when land was considered as the means, not of sub- 
sistence merely but of power and protection, it was 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 105 

thought better than it should descend undivided to 
one. In those disorderly times every great landlord 
was a sort of petty prince. His tenants were his sub- 
jects. He was their judge, and in some respects their 
legislator in peace and their leader in war. He made 
war according to his discretion, frequently against 
his neighbors, and sometimes against his sovereign. 
The security of a landed estate, therefore, the pro- 
tection which its owner could afford to those who 
dwelt on it, depended upon its greatness. To divide 
it was to ruin it, and to expose every part of it to be 
oppressed and swallowed up by the incursions of its 
neighbors. The law of primogeniture, therefore, 
came to take place, not immediately, indeed, but in 
process of time, in the succession of landed estate, 
for the same reason that it has generally taken place 
in that of monarchies, though not always at their 
first institution. That the power, and consequently 
the security of the monarchy, may not be weakened 
by division, it must descend entire to one of the chil- 
dren. To which of them so important a preference 
shall be given must be determined by some general 
rule, founded not upon the doubtful distinctions of 
personal merit, but upon some plain and evident dif- 
ference which can admit of no dispute. Among the 
children of the same family there can be no indis- 
putable difference but that of sex and that of age. 
The male sex is universally preferred to the female, 
and when all other things are equal the elder every- 
where takes place of the younger. Hence the origin 
of the right of primogeniture and of what is called 
lineal succession. 

Laws frequently continue in force long after the 



106 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

circumstances which first gave occasion to them, and 
which could alone render them reasonable and no 
more. In the present state of Europe the proprietor 
of a single acre of land is as perfectly secure of his 
possession as the proprietor of a hundred thousand. 
The right of primogeniture, however, still continues 
to be respected, and as of all institutions it is the fit- 
test to support the pride of family distinctions, it is 
still likely to endure for many centuries. In every 
other respect nothing can be more contrary to the 
real interest of a numerous family than a right which, 
in order to enrich one, beggars all the rest of the 
family. 

Entails are the natural consequences of the law 
of primogeniture. They were introduced to preserve 
a certain lineal succession, of which the law of primo- 
geniture first gave the idea, and to hinder any part 
of the original estate from being carried out of the 
proposed line either by gift, or devise, or alienation; 
either by the folly or by the misfortune of any of its 
successive owners. They were altogether unknown 
to the Romans. Neither their substitutions nor fidei 
commisses bear any resemblance to entails, though 
some French lawyers have thought proper to dress 
the modern institution in the language and garb of 
those ancient ones. 

When great landed estates were a sort of princi- 
palities entails might not be unreasonable. Like 
what are called the fundamental laws of some mon- 
archies, they might frequently hinder the security 
of thousands from being endangered by the caprice 
or extravagance of one man. But in the present state 
of Europe, when small as well as great estates derive 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 107 

their security from the laws of their country, noth- 
ing can be more completely absurd. They are 
founded upon the most absurd of all suppositions — 
the supposition that every successive generation of 
men have not an equal right to the earth and to all 
that it possesses; but that the property of the pres- 
ent generation should be restrained and regulated 
according to the fancy of those who died perhaps 
five hundred years ago. Entails, however, are still 
respected through the greater part of Europe, in 
those countries particularly in which noble birth is a 
necessary qualification for the enjoyment either of 
civil or military honors. Entails are thought neces- 
sary for maintaining this exclusive privilege of the 
nobility to the great offices and honors of their coun- 
try; and that order having usurped one unjust ad- 
vantage over the rest of their fellow citizens, lest 
their poverty should render it ridiculous, it is thought 
reasonable that they should have another. The com- 
mon law of England, indeed, is said to abhor per- 
petuities., and they are accordingly more restricted 
there than in any other Eiu'opean monarchy, though 
even ;£]ngland is not altogether without them. In 
Scotland more than one-fifth, perhaps more than one- 
third part of the whole lands of the country, are at 
present supposed to be under strict entail. 

Great tracts of uncultivated land were, in this 
manner, not only engrossed by particular families, 
but the possibility of their being divided against was 
as much as possible precluded forever. It seldom 
happens, however, that a great proprietor is a great 
improver. In the disorderly times, which gave birth 
to those barbarous institutions, the great proprietor 



108 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

was sufficiently employed in defending his own ter- 
ritories, or in extending his jurisdiction and author- 
ity over those of his neighbors. He had no leisure to 
attend to the cultivation and improvement of his 
land. When the establishment of law and order af- 
forded him this leisure, he often wanted the inclina- 
tion, and almost always the requisite abilities. If 
the expense of his house and person either equaled 
or exceeded his revenue, as it did very frequently, he 
had no stock to employ in this manner. If he was an 
economist he generally found it more profitable to 
employ his annual savings in new purchases than in 
the improvement of his old estate. To improve land 
with profit, like all other commercial projects, re- 
quires an exact attendance to small savings and 
small gains, of which a man born to a great fortune, 
even though naturally frugal, is very seldom capable. 
The situation of such a person naturally disposes him 
to attend rather to ornament which pleases his fancy 
than to profit for which he has so little occasion. The 
elegance of his dress, of his equipage, of his house, 
and household furniture, are objects which from his 
infancy he has been accustomed to have some anxiety 
about. The turn of mind which this habit naturally 
forms follows him when he comes to think of the im- 
provement of land. He embellishes, perhaps, four or 
five hundred acres in the neighborhood of his house, 
at ten times the expense which the land is worth 
after all his improvements, and finds that if he was 
to improve his whole estate in the same manner, and 
he has little taste for any other, he would be a bank- 
rupt before he had finished the tenth part of it. There 
still remains in both parts of the United Kingdom 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 109 

some great estates which have continued without in- 
terruption in the hands of the same family since the 
times of feudal anarchy. Compare the present con- 
dition of those estates with the possessions of the 
small proprietors in their neighborhood, and you will 
require no other argument to convince you how un- 
favorable such extensive property is to improvement. 
If little improvement was to be expected from 
such great proprietors, still less was to be hoped for 
from those who occupied the land under them. In 
the ancient state of Europe, the occupiers of land 
were all tenants at will. They were all or almost 
all slaves; but their slavery was of a milder kind 
than that known among the ancient Greeks and 
Eomans or even in our West Indian colonies. They 
were supposed to belong more directly to the land 
than to their master. They could, therefore, be sold 
with it, but not separately. They could marry, pro- 
vided it was with the consent of their master; and 
he could not afterwards dissolve the marriage by 
selling the man and wife to different persons. If 
he maimed or murdered any of them, he was liable 
to some penalty, though generally to a small one. 
They were not, however, capable of acquiring prop- 
erty. Whatever they acquired was acquired to their 
master, and he could take it from them at pleasure. 
Whatever cultivation and improvement could be 
carried on by means of such slaves, was properly 
carried on by their master. It was at his expense. 
The seed, the cattle, and the instruments of hus- 
bandry were all his. It was for his benefit. Such 
slaves could acquire nothing but their daily main- 
tenance. It was properly the proprietor himself, 



110 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

therefore, that in this case occupied his own lands, 
and cultivated them by his own bondmen. This 
species of slavery still subsists in Russia, Poland, 
Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and other parts of 
Germany. It is only in the western and south- 
western provinces of Europe that it has been grad- 
ually abolished altogether. (This slavery was abol- 
ished in Scotland in 1795.) 

But if great improvements are seldom to be ex- 
pected from great proprietors, they are least of all 
to be expected when they employ slaves for their 
workmen. The experience of all ages and nations, 
I believe, demonstrates that the work done by slaves, 
though it appears to cost only their maintenance, 
is in the end the dearest of any. A person who can 
acquire no property, can have no other interest but 
to eat as much and to labor as little as possible. 
Whatever work he does beyond what is sufficient to 
purchase his own maintenance, can be squeezed out 
of him by violence only, and not by any interest of 
his own. In ancient Italy, how much the cultiva- 
tion of corn degenerated, how unprofitable it became 
to the master when it fell under the management 
of slaves, is remarked by both Pliny and Columella. 
In the time of Aristotle it had not been much better 
in ancient Greece. Speaking of the ideal republic 
described in the laws of Plato, to maintain five thou- 
sand idle men (the number of warriors supposed 
necessary for its defence), together with their women 
and servants, would require, he says, a territory of 
boundless extent and fertility, like the plains of 
Babylon. 

The pride of man makes him love to dommeea:, 



ECONOMIC HISTOKY 111 

and nothing mortifies him so much as to be obliged 
to condescend to persuade his inferiors. Wherever 
the law allows it, and the nature of the work can 
afford it, therefore, he will generally prefer the 
service of slaves to that of free men. The planting 
of sugar and tobacco can afford the expense of slave 
cultivation. The raising of com, it seems, in the 
present times, cannot. In the English colonies, off 
which the principal produce is corn, the far greater 
part of the work is done by freemen. The late reso- 
lution of the Quakers in Pennsylvania to set at lib- 
erty all their negro slaves, may satisfy us that their 
number cannot be very great. Had they made any 
considerable part of their property, such a resolu- 
tion could never have been agreed to. In our sugar 
colonies, on the contrary, the whole work is done 
by slaves, and in our tobacco colonies a very great 
part of it. The profits of a sugar plantation in any 
of our West Indian colonies are generally much 
greater than those of any other cultivation that is 
known either in Europe oi America; and the profits 
of a tobacco plantation, though inferior to those of 
sugar, are superior to those of corn, as has already 
been observed. Both can afford the expense of 
slave cultivation, but sugar can afford it still better 
than tobacco. The number of negroes, accordingly, 
is much greater, in proportion to that of whites, in 
our sugar than in our tobacco colonies. 

To the slave cultivators of ancient times, grad- 
ually succeeded a species of farmers known in France 
by the name of Metayers. They are called in Latin, 
Coloni Partiarii. They have been so long in disuse 
in England that at pree^it I know no English mme 



112 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

for them. The proprietor furnished them with the 
seed, cattle, and instruments of husbandry, the whole 
stock, in short, necessary for cultivating the farm. 
The produce was divided equally between the pro- 
prietor and the farmer, after setting aside what was 
judged necessary for keeping up the stock, which 
was restored to the proprietor when the farmer 
either quitted or was turned out of the farm. 

Land occupied by such tenants is properly culti- 
vated at the expense of the proprietor, as much as 
that occupied by slaves. There is, however, one 
very essential difference between them. Such ten- 
ants, being freemen, are capable of acquiring prop- 
erty, and having a certain proportion of the produce 
of the land, they have a plain interest that the whole 
produce should be as great as possible in order that 
their own proportion may be so. A slave, on the 
contrary, who can acquire nothing but his mainte- 
nance, consults his own ease by making the land 
produce as little as possible over and above that 
maintenance. It is probable that it was partly upon 
account of this advantage, and partly upon account 
of the encroachments which the sovereign, always 
jealous of the great lords, gradually encouraged their 
villeins to make upon their authority, and which 
seems at last to have been such as rendered this spe- 
cies of servitude altogether inconvenient, that tenure 
in villenage gradually wore out through the greater 
part of Europe. The time and manner, however, 
in which so important a revolution was brought 
about, is one of the most obscure points in modern 
history. The church of Rome claims great merit 
in it, and it is certain that so early as the twelfth 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 113 

century, Alexander III published a bull for the gen- 
eral emancipation of slaves. It seems, however, to 
have been rather a pious exhortation than a law to 
which exact obedience was required from the faith- 
ful. Slavery continued to take place almost uni- 
versally for several centuries afterwards till it was 
gradually abolished by the joint operation of the 
two interests above mentioned, that of the propri- 
etor, on the one hand, and that of the sovereign on the 
other. A viUein enfranchised, and at the same time 
allowed to continue in possession of the land, having 
no stock of his own, could cultivate it only by means 
of what the landlord advanced to him, and must, 
therefore, have been what the French call a metayer. 
It could never, however, be the interest even of 
this last species of cultivators to lay out, in the fur- 
ther improvement of the land, any part of the little 
stock which they might save from their own share of 
the produce, because the lord, who laid out nothing, 
was to get one-half of whatever it produced. The 
tithe, which is but a tenth of the produce, is found 
to be a very great hindrance to improvement. A 
tax, therefore, which amounted to one-half, must 
have been an effectual bar to it. It might be the 
interest of a metayer to make the land produce as 
much as could be brought out of it by means of the 
stock furnished by the proprietor, but it could never 
be his interest to mix any part of his own with it. 
In France, where five parts out of six of the whole 
kingdom are said to be still occupied by this species 
of cultivators, the proprietors complain that their 
metayers take every opportunity of employing the 
master's cattle rather in carriage than in cultivation; 



114 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

because in the one case they get the whole profits to 
themselves, in the other they share with their land- 
lord. This species of tenants still subsists in some 
parts of Scotland. They are called steel-bow ten- 
ants. Those ancient English tenants, who are said 
by Chief Baron Gilbert and Dr. Blackstone to have 
been rather bailiffs of the landlord than farmers 
properly so called, were probably of the same kind. 
To this species of tenants succeeded, though by 
very slow degrees, farmers properly so called, who 
cultivated the land with their own stock, paying a 
certain rent to the landlord. "When such farmers 
have a lease for a term of years, they may sometimes 
find it to their interest to lay out part of their capi- 
tal in the further improvement of the farm; because 
they may sometimes expect to recover it, with a 
large profit, before the expiration of the lease. The 
possession even of such farmers, however, was long 
extremely precarious, and still is so in many parts 
of Europe. They could before the expiration of their 
term be legally ousted of their lease, by a new pur- 
chaser; in England, even by the fictitious action of 
a common recovery. If they were turned out ille- 
gally by the violence of their master, the action by 
which they obtained redress was extremely imper- 
fect. It did not always reinstate them in the pos- 
session of the land, but gave them damages which 
never amoimted to the real loss. Even in England, 
the country, perhaps of Europe, where the yeomanry 
has always been most respected, it was not until 
about the 14th of Henry VIE that the action of eject- 
ment was invented, by which the tenant recovers, 
not damages only, but possession, and in which his 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 115 

claim is not necessarily concluded by the uncertain 
decision of a single assize. This action has been 
found so effectual a remedy that, in the modern prac- 
tice, when the landlord has occasion to sue for the 
possession of the land, he seldom makes use of the 
actions which properly belong to him as landlord, 
the writ of right or the writ of entry, but sues in the 
name of his tenant, by the writ of ejectment. In 
England, therefore, the security of the tenant is 
equal to that of the proprietor. In England, besides 
a lease for life of forty shillings a year value is a 
freehold, and entitled the lessee to vote for a 
member of parliament; and as a great part of the 
yeomanry have freeholds of this kind, the whole 
order becomes respectable to their landlord on ac- 
count of the political consideration which this gives 
them. There is, I believe, nowhere in Europe, ex- 
cept in England, any instance of the tenant building 
upon the land of which he has no lease, and trusting 
that the honor of his landlord would take no advan- 
tage of so important an improvement. Those laws 
and those customs so favorable to the yeomanry 
have perhaps contributed more to the present gran- 
deur of England than all of their boasted regulations 
of commerce taken together. 

The law which secures the longest leases against 
successors of every kind is, so far as I know, peculiar 
to Great Britain. It was introduced into Scotland 
so early as 1449, by a law of James IT. Its beneficial 
influence, however, has been much obstructed by 
entails; the heirs of entail being generally restrained 
from letting leases for any long term of years, fre- 
quently for more than one year. A late act of par- 



116 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

liament has, in this respect, somewhat slackened 
their fetters, though they are still by much too strait. 
In Scotland, besides, as no leasehold gives a vote for 
a member of parliament, the yeomanry are upon this 
account less respectable to their landlords than in 
England. 

In other parts of Em-ope, after it was found con- 
venient to secure tenants both against heirs and pur- 
chasers, their term of security was still limited to a 
very short period; in France, for example, to nine 
years from the commencement of the lease. It has 
in that country, indeed, been lately extended to 
twenty-seven, a period still too short to encourage 
the tenant to make the most important improve- 
ments. The proprietors of land were anciently the 
legislators of every part of Europe. The laws re- 
lating to land, therefore, were all calculated for what 
they supposed the interest of the proprietor. It was 
for his interest, they all imagined, that no lease 
granted by any of his predecessors should hinder him 
from enjoying, during a long term of years, the full 
value of his land. Avarice and injustice are always 
shortsighted, and they did not foresee how much 
this regulation must obstruct improvement, and 
thereby hurt in the long run the real interest of the 
landlord. 

The farmers, too, besides paying the rent, were 
anciently, it was supposed, bound to perform a great 
number of services to the landlord, which were sel- 
dom either specified in the lease, or regulated by any 
precise rule, but by the use and wont of the manor 
or barony. These services, therefore, being almost 
entirely arbitrary, subjected the tenant to many vex- 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 117 

ations. In Scotland the abolition of all services, 
which are not precisely stipulated in the lease, has 
in the course of a few years very much altered for 
the better the condition of the yeomanry of that 
country. 

The public services to which the yeomanry were 
bound were not less arbitrary than the private ones. 
To make and maintain the high roads, a servitude 
which still subsists, I believe, everywhere, though 
with different degrees of oppression in different 
countries, was not the only one. When the king's 
troops, when his household or his officers of any 
kind, passed through any part of the country, the 
yeomanry were bound to provide them with horses, 
carriages, and provisions, at a price regulated by the 
purveyor. Great Britain is, I believe, the only 
monarch in Europe where the oppression of purvey- 
ance has been entirely abolished. It still subsists in 
France and Germany. 

The public taxes to which they were subject were 
as irregular and oppressive as the services. The 
ancient lords, though extremely unwilling to grant 
themselves any pecuniary aid to their sovereign, 
easily allowed him to tallage, as they called it, their 
tenants, and had not knowledge enough to foresee 
how much this must in the end affect their own 
revenue. The taiUe, as it still subsists in France, 
may serve as an example of these ancient tallages. 
It is a tax upon the supposed profits of the farmer, 
which they estimate by the stock he has upon the 
farm. It is his interest, therefore, to appear to have 
as little as possible, and consequently employ as 
little as possible in its cultivation, and none in its 



118 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

improvement. Should any stock happen to accumu- 
late in the hands of the French farmer, the taille is 
almost equal to a prohibition of its ever being em- 
ployed upon the land. This tax besides is supposed 
to dishonor whoever is subject to it, and degrade 
him below, not only the rank of a gentleman, but 
that of a burgher, and whoever rents the lands of 
another becomes subject to it. ISTo gentleman nor 
even any burgher who has stock will submit to this 
degradation. This tax, therefore, not only hinders 
the stock which accumulates upon the land from 
being employed in its improvement, but drives away 
all other stock from it. The ancient tenths and fif- 
teenths, so usual in England in former times, seem, 
so as they affected the land, to have been taxes of the 
same nature with the taille, but all were abolished 
at the Revolution. 

Under all these discouragements, little improve- 
ment could be expected from the occupiers of land. 
That order of people, with all the liberty and security 
which law can give, must always improve under 
great disadvantages. The farmer compared with 
the proprietor is as a merchant who trades with bor- 
rowed money compared with one who trades with 
his own. The stock of both may improve, but that 
of the one, with only, equal good conduct, must 
always improve more slowly than that of the other, 
on account of the large share of profits which is con- 
sumed by the interest of the loan. The lands culti- 
vated by the farmer, must in the same manner, with 
only equal good conduct, be improved more slowly 
than those cultivated by the proprietor; on account 
of the large share of the produce which is consumed 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 119 

in the rent, and which, had the farmer been propri- 
etor, he might have employed in the further improve- 
ment of the land. The station of farmer beside is, 
from the nature of things, inferior to that of a pro- 
prietor. Through the greater part of Europe the 
yeomanry are regarded as an inferior rank of people, 
even to the better sort of tradesmen and mechanics, 
and in all parts of Europe to the great merchants 
and master manufacturers. It can seldom happen, 
therefore, that a man of any considerable stock 
should quit the superior, in order to place himself 
in an inferior station. Even in the present state of 
Europe, therefore, little stock is likely to go from 
any other profession to the improvement of land in 
the way of farming. More does perhaps in Great 
Britain than in any other country, though even there 
the great stocks which are, in some places employed 
in farming, have generally been acquired by farm- 
ing, the trade, perhaps, in which of all others stock 
is commonly acquired most slowly. After small pro- 
prietors, however, rich and great farmers are, in 
every country, the principal improvers. There are 
more such, perhaps, in England than in any other 
European monarchy. In the republican governments 
of Holland and of Berne in Switzerland, the farmers 
are said to be not inferior to those of England. 

The ancient policy of Europe was, over and above 
all this, unfavorable to the improvement and culti- 
vation of land, whether carried on by the proprietor 
or by the farmer; first, by the general prohibition of 
the exportation of com without a special license, 
which seems to have been a very universal regula- 
tion; and secondly, by the restraints which were laid 



120 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

upon the inland commerce, not only of corn but of 
almost every other part of the produce of the farm, 
by the absurd laws against engrossers, regraters, 
and forestallers, and by the privileges of fairs and 
markets. It has already been observed in what man- 
ner the prohibition of the exportation of corn, to- 
gether with some encouragement given to the im- 
portation of foreign corn, obstructed the cultivation 
of ancient Italy, naturally the most fertile country 
in Europe, and at that time the seat of the greatest 
empire in the world. To what degree such restraints 
upon the inland commerce of this commodity joined 
to the general prohibition of exportation, must have 
discouraged the cultivation of countries less fertUe, 
and less favorably circumstanced it is not perhaps 
very easy to imagine. 

The inhabitants of cities and towns were, after 
the fall of the Roman empire, not more favored than 
those of the country. They consisted, indeed, of a 
very different order of people from the first inhabit- 
ants of the ancient republics of Greece and Italy. 
These last were composed chiefly of the proprietors 
of the lands, among whom the public territory was 
originally divided, and who found it convenient to 
build their houses in the neighborhood of one an- 
other, and to surround them with a wall, for the sake 
of common defence. After the fall of the Roman 
empire, on the contrary, the proprietors of land seem 
generally to have lived in fortified castles on their 
own estates, and in the midst of their own tenants 
and dependents. The towns were chiefly inhabited 
by tradesmen and mechanics, who seem in those days 
to have been of servile or very nearly servile con- 



ECONOMIC HISTOKY 131 

dition. The privileges which we find granted by 
ancient charters to the inhabitants of some of the 
principal towns in Europe, sufficiently show what 
they were before those grants. The people to whom 
it is granted as a privilege, that they might give 
away their own daughters in marriage without the 
consent of their lord, that upon their death their 
own children, and not their lord, should succeed to 
their goods, and that they might dispose of their 
effects by will, must, before those grants were made, 
have been either altogether or very nearly in the 
same state of villenage with the occupiers of land 
in the country. 

They seem, indeed, to have been a very poor, 
mean set of people, who used to travel about with 
their goods from place to place, and from fair to 
fair, like the hawkers and pedlars of the present 
times. In all the different countries of Europe, then, 
in the same manner, as in several of the Tartar gov- 
ernments of Asia at present, taxes used to be levied 
upon the persons and goods of travelers, when they 
passed through certain manors, when they went over 
certain bridges, when they carried about their goods 
from place to place in a fair, when they erected in it 
a booth or stall to sell them in. These different taxes 
were known in England by the names of passage, 
pontage, lastage, and stallage. Sometimes the king, 
sometimes a great lord, who had, it seems, upon some 
occasions, authority to do this, would grant to par- 
ticular traders, to such particularly as lived in their 
own demesnes, a general exemption from such taxes. 
Such traders, though in other respects of servile, or 
very nearly of servile condition, were upon this ac- 
count called Free-traders. They in return usually 



122 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

paid to their protector a sort of annual poll-tax. In 
those days protection was seldom granted without 
a valuable consideration, and this tax might, per- 
haps, be considered as compensation for what their 
patrons might lose by their exemption from other 
taxes. At first, both those poll-taxes and those ex- 
emptions seem to have been altogether personal, and 
to have affected only individuals, during either their 
lives, or the pleasure of their protectors. In the very 
imperfect accounts which have been published from 
Domesday-book, of several of the towns of England, 
mention is frequently made sometimes of the tax 
which particular burghers paid, each of them, either 
to the king or to some other great lord, for this sort 
of protection; and sometimes of the general amount 
only of all those taxes. 

But how servile soever may have been originally 
the condition of the inhabitants of the towns, it ap- 
pears evidently, that they arrived at liberty and 
independency much earlier than the occupiers of 
land in the country. That part of the king's rev- 
enue which arose from such poll-taxes in any par- 
ticular town used commonly to be let in farm, during 
a term of years for a rent certain, sometimes to the 
sheriff of the country and sometimes to other per- 
sons. The burghers themselves frequently got 
.credit enough to be admitted to farm the revenues 
of this sort which arose out of their own town, they 
becoming jointly and severally answerable for the 
whole rent. To let a farm in this manner was quite 
agreeable to the usual economy of, I believe, the sov- 
ereigns of all the different countries of Europe, who 
used frequently to let whole manors to all the ten- 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 133 

ants of those manors, they becoming jointly and sev- 
erally answerable for the whole rent; but in return 
being allowed to collect it in their own way, and to 
pay it into the king's exchequer by the hands of 
their own bailiff, and being thus altogether freed 
from the insolence of the king's officers; a circum- 
stance which in those days was regarded as of the 
greatest importance. 

At first, the farm of the town was probably let 
to the burghers, in the same manner as it had been 
to other farmers, for a term of years only. In 
process of time, however, it seems to have become 
the general practice to grant it them in fee, that is, 
for ever, reserving a rent certain never afterwards 
to be augmented. The pajnuent having thus become 
perpetual, the exemptions, in return, for which it 
was made, naturally became perpetual too. Those 
exemptions, therefore, ceased to be personal, and 
could not afterwards be considered as belonging to 
individuals as individuals, but as burghers of a par- 
ticular burgh, which upon this account, was called 
a free burgh, for the same reason that they had been 
called free-burghers or free-traders. 

Along with this grant, the important privileges, 
above mentioned, that they might give away their 
daughters in marriage, that their children should 
succeed to them, and that they might dispose of their, 
own effects by will, were generally bestowed upon 
the burghers of the town to whom it was given. 
Whether such privileges had before them usually 
granted along with the freedom of trade, to particu- 
lar burghers as individuals, I know not. I reckon it 
not improbable that they were, though I cannot pro- 



124 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

duce any direct evidence of it. But, however, this 
may have been, the principal attributes of villenage 
and slavery being thus taken away from them, they 
now, at least, became really free in our present sense 
of the word Freedom. 

Nor was this all. They were generally at the 
same time erected into a commonalty or corporation, 
with the privilege of having magistrates and a town 
council of their own, or making by-laws for their 
own government, of building walls for their own de- 
fence, and of reducing all their inhabitants under a 
sort of military discipline by obliging them to watch 
and ward; that is, as anciently understood, to guard 
and defend those walls against all attacks and sur- 
prises by night as well as by day. In England they 
were generally exempted from suit to the hundred 
and county courts; and all such pleas as should arise 
among them, the pleas of the crown excepted, were 
left to the decision of their own magistrates. In 
other countries much greater and more extensive 
jurisdictions were frequently granted to them. 

It might, probably, be necessary to grant to such 
towns as were admitted to farm their own revenues, 
some sort of compulsive jurisdiction to oblige their 
own citizens to make payment. In those disorderly 
times it might have been extremely inconvenient 
to have left them to seek this sort of justice from any 
other tribunal. But it must seem extraordinary that 
the sovereigns of all the different countries of 
Europe should have exchanged in this manner for a 
rent certain, never more to be augmented, that 
branch of their revenue, which was, perhaps, of all 
others, the most likely to be improved by the natu- 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 125 

ral course of things, without either expense or atten- 
tion of their own, and that they should, besides, have 
in this manner voluntarily erected a sort of inde- 
pendent republic in the heart of their own dominions. 
In order to understand this, it must be remem- 
bered, that in those days the sovereign of perhaps no 
country in Europe was able to protect through the 
whole extent of his dominions, the weaker part of 
his subjects from the oppression of the great lords. 
Those whom the law could not protect, and who were 
not strong enough themselves to defend themselves 
were obliged to either have recourse to the protec- 
tion of some great lord, and in order to obtain it to 
become either his slaves or vassals, or to enter into a 
league of mutual defence for the common protection 
of one another. The inhabitants of cities and burghs, 
considered as single individuals, had not power to 
defend themselves; but by entering into a league of 
mutual defence with their neighbors, they were 
capable of making no contemptible resistance. The 
lords despised the burghers, whom they considered 
not only as of a different order, but as a parcel of 
emancipated slaves, almost of a different species from 
themselves. The wealth of the burghers never failed 
to provoke their envy and indignation, and they 
plundered them upon every occasion without mercy 
or remorse. The burghers naturally hated and feared 
the lords. The king hated and feared them, too; but 
though perhaps he might despise them, he had to 
reason either to hate or fear the burghers. Mutual 
interest, therefore, disposed them to support the 
king, and the king to support them against the lords. 
They were the enemies of his enemies, and it was 



136 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

his interest to render them as secure and independent 
of those enemies as he could. By granting them mag- 
istrates of their own, the privilege of making by- 
laws for their own government, that of building walls 
for their own defence, and that of reducing aU their 
inhabitants under a sort of military discipline, he 
gave them all the means of security and indepen- 
dency of the barons which it was in his power to 
bestow. Without the establishment of some regu- 
lar government of this kind, without some authority 
to compel the inhabitants to act according to some 
certain plan or system, no voluntary league of mu- 
tual defence could either have afforded them any 
permanent security, or have enabled them to give 
the king any considerable support. By granting 
them the farm of their town in fee, he took away from 
those whom he wished to have for his friends, and 
if one may say so, for his allies, all ground of jeal- 
ousy and suspicion that he was never afterwards to 
oppress them, either by raiding the farm rent of their 
town or by granting it to some other farmer. 

The princes, who lived upon the worst terms with 
their barons, seem accordingly to have been the most 
liberal in grants of this kind to their burghs. King 
John of England, for example, appears to have been 
a most munificent benefactor to his towns. Philip 
the First of France lost all authority over his barons. 
Towards the end of his reign, his son Lewis, known 
afterwards by the name of Lewis the Fat, consulted, 
according to Father Daniel, with the bishops of the 
royal demesnes, concerning the most proper means 
of restraining the violence of the great lords. Their 
advice consisted of two different proposals. One was 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 137 

to erect a new order of jurisdiction, by establishing 
magistrates and a town council in every consider- 
able town of Ms demesnes. The other was to form a 
new militia, by making the inhabitants of those towns 
under the command of their own magistrates, march 
out upon proper occasions to the assistance of the 
king. It is from this period, according to the French 
antiquarians, that we are to date the institution of 
the magistrates and councils of cities in Prance. It 
was during the unprosperous reigns of the princes of 
the house of Suabia that the greater part of the free 
towns of Germany received the first grants of their 
privileges, and that the famous Hanseatic league 
first became formidable. 

The militia of the. cities seems, in those times, 
not to have been inferior to that of the country, and 
as they could be more readily assembled upon any 
sudden occasion, they frequently had the advantage 
in their disputes with the neighboring lords. In 
countries such as Italy and Switzerland, in which, 
on account either of their distance from the principal 
seat of government, or of the natural strength of the 
country itself, or of some other reason, the sovereign 
came to lose the whole of his authority, the cities 
generally became independent republics, and con- 
quered all the nobility in their neighborhood; oblig- 
ing them to pull down their castles in the country, 
and to live like other peaceable inhabitants in the 
city. This is the short history of the republic of 
Berne, as well as of several other cities in Switzer- 
land. If you except Venice, for of that city the his- 
tory is somewhat different, it is the history of all the 
considerable Italian republics, of which so great a 



138 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

number arose and perished, between the end of the 
twelfth and the beginning of the sixteenth century. 

In countries such as France or England, where 
the authority of the sovereign, though frequently 
very low, never was destroyed altogether, the cities 
had no opportunity of becoming entirely indepen- 
dent. They became, however, so considerable that 
the sovereign could impose no tax upon them, be- 
sides the stated farm-rent of the town, without their 
own consent. They were, therefore, called upon to 
send deputies to the general assembly of the states 
of the kingdom, where they might join with the 
clergy and the barons in granting, upon urgent occa- 
sions, some extraordinary aid to the king. Being 
generally, too, more favorable to his power, their 
deputies seem sometimes to have been employed by 
him as a counterbalance in those assemblies to the 
authority of the great lords. Hence the origin of the 
representation of burghs in the states general of all 
the great monarchies of Europe. 

Order and good government, and along with them 
the liberty and security of individuals, were, in this 
manner, established in cities, at a time when the 
occupiers of land in the country were exposed to 
every sort of violence. But men in this defenceless 
state naturally content themselves with their neces- 
sary subsistence, because to acquire more might only 
tempt the injustice of their oppressors. On the con- 
trary, when they are secure of enjoying the fruits of 
their industry, they naturally exert it to better their 
condition, and to acquire not only the necessaries, 
but the conveniences and elegancies of life. That 
industry, therefore, which aims at something more 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 1S9 

than necessary subsistence, was established in cities 
long before it was commonly practised by the occu- 
piers of land in the country. If in the hands of a 
poor cultivator, oppressed with the servitude of vil- 
lenage some little stock should accumulate, he would 
naturally conceal it with great care from his master, 
to whom it would otherwise have belonged, and take 
the first opportunity of running away to a town. 
The law was at that time so indulgent to the inhabit- 
ants of the towns, and so desirous of diminishing the 
authority of the lords over those of the country, that 
if he could conceal himself there from the pursuit of 
his lord for a year, he was free for ever. Whatever 
stock, therefore, accumulated in the hands of the 
industrious part of the inhabitants of the country, 
naturally took refuge in the cities, as the only sanc- 
tuaries in which it could be secure to the person that 
had acquired it. 

The inhabitants of a city, it is true, must always 
ultimately derive their subsistence, and the whole 
materials and means of their industry from the coun- 
try. But those of a city situated near either of the 
sea-coast or the banks of a navigable river, are not 
necessarily confined to derive them from the country 
in their neighborhood. They have a much wider 
range, and may draw them from the most remote cor- 
ners of the world, either in exchange for the manu- 
factured produce of their own industry, or by per- 
forming the office of carriers between distant coun- 
tries, and exchanging the produce of one for that of 
another. A city might in this manner grow up to 
great wealth and splendor, while not only the coun- 
try in its neighborhood, but all those to which it 



130 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

traded, were in poverty and wretchedness. Each of 
those countries, perhaps, taken singly, could afford 
it both a great subsistence and a great employment. 
There were, however, within the narrow circle of the 
commerce of those times, some countries that were 
opulent and industrious. Such was the Greek em- 
pire as long as it subsisted, and that of the Saracens 
during the reigns of the Abassides. Such, too, was 
Egypt till it was conquered by the Turks, some part 
of the coast of Barbary, and all those provinces of 
Spain which were under the government of the 
Moors. 

The cities of Italy seem to have been the first in 
Europe which were raised by commerce to any con- 
siderable degree of opulence. Italy lay in the center 
of what was at that time the improved and civilized 
part of the world. The crusades, too, though by the 
great waste of stock and destruction of inhabitants 
which they occasioned, they must necessarily have 
retarded the progress of the greater part of Europe, 
were extremely favorable to that of some Italian 
cities. The great armies which marched from all 
parts to the conquests of the Holy Land, gave 
extraoradinary encouragement to the shipping of 
Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, sometimes in transporting 
them thither, and always in supplying them with 
provisions. They were the commissaries, if one may 
say so, for those armies; and the most destructive 
frenzy that ever befell the European nations was a 
source of opulence to those republics. 

The inhabitants of trading cities, by importing 
the improved manufactures and expensive luxuries 
of richer countries, afforded scmie food to the vanity 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 131 

of the great proprietors, who eagerly purchased them 
with great quantities of the rude produce of their 
own lands. The commerce of the great part of 
Europe in those times, accordingly, consisted chiefly 
in the exchange of their own rude for the manufac- 
tured produce of more civilized nations. Thus the 
wool of England used to be exchanged for the wines 
of France and the fine cloths of Flanders, in the same 
manner as the corn in Poland is at this day exchanged 
for the wines and brandies of France, and for the 
silks and velvets of France and Italy. 

A taste for the finer and more improved manu- 
factures was in this manner introduced by foreign 
commerce into countries where no such works were 
carried on. But when this taste became so general 
as to occasion a considerable demand, the merchants, 
in order to save the expense of carriage, naturally 
endeavored to establish some manufactures of the 
same kind in their own country. Hence the origin 
of the first manufactures for distant sale that seem 
to have been established in the western provinces of 
Europe, after the fall of the Roman empire. 

No large country, it must be observed, ever did 
or could subsist without some sort of manufactures 
being carried on in it; and when it is said of any 
such country that it has no manufactures, it must 
always be understood of the finer and more improved, 
or of such as are fit for distant sale. In every large 
country, both the clothing and household furniture 
of the far greater part of the people, are the produce 
of their own industry. This is even more universally 
the case in those poor countries which are commonly 
said to have no manufactures, than in those rich ones 



132 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

that are said to abound in them. In the latter, you 
will generally find, both in the clothes and household 
furniture of the lowest rank of people a much greater 
proportion of foreign productions than in the former. 

Those manufactures which are fit for distant sale 
seem to have been introduced into different countries 
in two different ways. 

Sometimes they have been introduced, in the man- 
ner above mentioned by the violent operation, if one 
may say so, of the stocks of particular merchants and 
undertakers, who established them in imitation of 
some foreign manufactures of the same kind. Such 
manufactures, therefore, are the offspring of foreign 
commerce, and such seem to have been the ancient 
manufactures of silks, velvets, and brocades, which 
flourished in Lucca during the thirteenth century. 
They were banished from thence by the tyranny of 
one of Machiavel's heroes, Castruccio Castracani. 

In 1310, nine hundred families were driven out 
of Lucca, of whom thirty-one retired to Venice, and 
offered to introduce there the silk manufacture. 
Their offer was accepted; many privileges were con- 
ferred upon them, and they began the manufacture 
with three hundred workmen. Such, too, seem to 
have been the manufactures of the fine cloths that 
anciently flourished in Flanders, and which were 
introduced into England in the beginning of the 
reign of Elizabeth; and such are the present silk 
manufactures of Lyons and Spitafields. Manufac- 
tures introduced in this manner are generally em- 
ployed upon foreign materials, being imitations of 
foreign manufacturers. When the Venetian manu- 
facture was first established, the materials were all 



ECONOMIC HISTORY 133 

brought from Sicily and the Levant. The more an- 
cient manufacture of Lucca was likewise carried on 
with foreign materials. The cultivation of mulberry 
trees and the breeding of silkworms seem not to have 
been common in the northern parts of Italy before 
the sixteenth century. Those arts were not intro- 
duced into France till the reign of Charles IX. The 
manufactures of Flanders were carried on chiefly 
with Spanish and English wool. Spanish wool was 
the material, not of the first woolen manufacture of 
England, but of the first that was fit for distant sale. 
More than one-half of the materials of the Lyons 
manufacture is at this day foreign silk; when it was 
first established, the whole or very nearly the whole 
was so. No part of the materials of the Spitafields 
manufacture is ever likely to be the produce of Eng- 
land. The seat of such manufactures, as they are 
generally introduced by the scheme and project of a 
few individuals, is sometimes established in a mari- 
time city, and sometimes in an inland town, accord- 
ing as their interest, judgment, or caprice happens 
to determine. 

At other times manufactures for distant sale 
grow up naturally, and as it were of their own ac- 
cord, by the gradual refinement of those household 
and coarser manufactures which must at all times 
be carried on even in the poorest and rudest coun- 
tries. Such manufactures are generally employed 
upon the materials which the country produces, and 
they seem frequently to have been first refined and 
improved in such inland countries as were, not 
indeed at a very great, but at a considerable distance 
from the sea coast, and sometimes even from all 



134 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

water carriage. An inland country naturally fertile 
and easily cultivated, produced a great surplus of 
provisions beyond what is necessary for maintaining 
tlie cultivators, and on account of the expense of land 
carriage, and inconveniency of river navigation, it 
may frequently be difficult to send this surplus 
abroad. Abundance, therefore, renders provisions 
cheap, and encourages a great number of workmen 
to settle in the neighborhood, who find that their 
industry can there procure them more of the neces- 
saries and conveniences of life than in other places. 
They work up the materials of manufacture which 
the land produces, and exchange their finished work, 
or what is the same thing, the price of it, for more 
materials and provisions. They give a new value 
to the surplus part of the rude produce, by saving 
the expense of carrying it to the water-side, or to 
some distant market; and they furnish the culti- 
vators with something in exchange for it that is 
either useful or agreeable to them upon easier terms 
than they could have obtained it before. The culti- 
vators get a better price for their surplus produce 
and can purchase cheaper other conveniences which 
they have occasion for. They are thus both encour- 
aged and enabled to increase this surplus by a fur- 
ther improvement and better cultivation of the land; 
and as the fertility of the land had given birth to the 
manufacture, so the progress of the manufacture 
reacts upon the land, and increases still further its 
fertility. The manufactures first supply the neigh- 
borhood, and afterwards, as their work improves and 
refines, more distant markets. For though neither 
the rude produce, nor even the coarse manufacture, 



ECONOMIC HISTOKY 135 

could, without the greatest difficultj^, support the 
expense of a considerable land carriage, the refined 
and improved manufacture easily may. In a small 
bulk it frequently contains the price of a great quan- 
tity of rude produce. A piece of fine cloth, for ex- 
ample, which weighs only eight pounds, contains in 
it the price, not only of eight pounds weight of 
wool, but sometimes of several thousand weight of 
com, the maintenance of the different working 
people, and of their immediate employers. The corn, 
which could with difficulty have been carried abroad 
in its own shape, is in this manner virtually exported 
in that of the complete manufacture, and may easily 
be sent to the remotest corners of the world. In this 
manner have grown up naturally, and as it were of 
their own accord, the manufactures of Leeds, Hali- 
fax, Sheffield, Birmingham and Wolverhampton. 
Such manufactures are the offspring of agriculture. 
In the modern history of Europe, their extension and 
improvement have generally been posterior to those 
which were the offspring of foreign commerce. Eng- 
land was noted for the manufacture of fine cloths 
made of Spanish wool, more than a century before 
any of those which now flourish in the place above 
mentioned were fit for foreign sale. The extension 
and improvement of these last could not take place 
but in consequence of the extension and improve- 
ment of agriculture, the last and greatest effect of 
foreign commerce, and of the manufactures imme- 
diately introduced by it, and which I shall now 
proceed to explain."® 

The industrial conditions in England just prior to 



136 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

what is known as the Industrial Revolution is thus 
described: 

''Down to the second half of the eighteenth cen- 
tury the manufacturers of England, though already 
important were mere handicrafts, unaided by ma- 
chinery, and scattered over the whole face of the 
land. A series of mechanical discoveries changed all 
this. The first of them was that iron could be smelted 
with coal, a thing unknown before, which made the 
district of northern England, where coal and iron lie 
side by side, a great industrial centre instead of a 
range of barren moors. A few years later came the 
discoveries of Watt and Arkwright, the former of 
whom applied steam to the working of machinery, 
while the latter perfected the details and definitely 
substituted mechanism for the slowly-moving human 
hand in the spinning and weaving industry. These 
all-important inventions were well established in 
England, though still almost unknown abroad, when 
the Revolutionary war broke out. Their develop- 
ment coincided with the years of its progress! all 
our rivals being handicapped not only by antiquated 
methods but by the stress of the French invasions, 
were hopelessly distanced. Moreover, the sweeping 
from the seas of all mercantile navies save our own 
gave us control of all the markets outside Europe. 
In a single generation British industry supplanted 
that of other nations in the outer world. The de- 
mand for our cheap machine-made manufactures 
was so great that factories sprang up on every York- 
shire and Lancashire moor, and the population of 
the north quadrupled itself in thirty years. But the 

"Smith's Wealth of Nations, Book III, Chapters II and in. 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 137 

national prosperity was bought at the cost of much 
individual misery. The classes which had lived by 
handicrafts were ruined; the new factory hands were 
ill-paid, huddled together in badly built, unsanitary 
towns of mushroom growth, and often driven to the 
verge of starvation hj the repeated famines, which 
were one of the most unhappy features of the period 
of the great war. Trades unions were in those days 
prohibited by law, and the discontent of the indus- 
trial population could only vent itself in riots, which 
sometimes almost swelled to the size of insurrec- 
tions."^ 

Section 43. Modem Industry. 

What may be referred to as the industrial and 
economic renaissance was very much later in making 
its appearance than the renaissance in other branches 
of human activity. This was largely brought about 
by the many great inventions in the last half of the 
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Mr. Alfred R. 
Wallace in his ^ * The Wonderful Century ' ' says : * ' To 
get any adequate comparison with the nineteenth 
century we must take not any preceding century 
or group of centuries, but rather the whole preceding 
epoch of human history," and then proceeds to com- 
pare the inventions of the nineteenth century and 
those of all others that foUow. (See page 138.) 

* C. W. C. Oman in Historians ' History of the World, Vol. 
p. 484. 



138 



POLITICAL ECONOMY 



OF THE NINETEENTH CENTUEY. 



OF ALL PEECEDING AGES. 



1. 


Eailways. 


1. 


The Mariner's Compass, 


2. 


Steamships. 


2. 


The Steam Engine, 


3. 


Electric Telegraphs. 


3. 


The Telescope, 


4. 


The Telephone. 


4. 


The Barometer and Ther- 


5. 


Lucifer Matches. 




mometer. 


6. 


Gas Illumination. 


5. 


Printing. 


7. 


Electric Lighting. 


6. 


Arabic Numerals. 


8. 


Photography, 


7. 


Alphabetical Writing. 


9. 


The Phonograph. 


8. 


Modern Chemistry 


10. 


Eoentgen Eays. 




Founded. 


11. 


Spectrum Analysis. 


9. 


Electric Science 


13. 


Anaesthetics. 




Founded. 


13. 


Antiseptic Surgery. 


10. 


Gravitation Established. 


14. 


Conservation of Energy. 


11. 


Kepler's Laws. 


15. 


Molecular Theory of Gases. 


12. 


The Different Calculus. 


16. 


Velocity of Light directly 


13. 


The Circulation of the 




measures and Earth's 




Blood. 




Potation experimentally 


14. 


Light proved to have 




shown. 




Finite Velocity. 


17. 


The Uses of Dust. 


15. 


The Development of 


18. 


Chemistry, Definite Pro- 
portions. 




Geometry. 


19. 


Meteors and the Meteoritic 

Theory. 






20. 


The Glacial Epoch." 






21. 


The Antiquity of Man. 






22. 


Organic Evolution Es- 
tablished. 






23. 


Cell Theory and Embry- 
ology. 






24. 


Germ Theory of Disease, 
and the Function of the 
Leucocytes. 







The great changes through the nineteenth cen- 
tury have been the transfer of the most important 
problems of Political Economy from the field of pro- 
duction to that of distribution; the vast extensions 
of International trade and intercourse; and the rise 
of the factory system. 

The influence of each of these, and more particu- 



ECONOMIC HISTOEY 139 

larly of the introduction of the factory system has 
been to make it necessary to conduct business and 
manufactures on a larger scale and to substitute large 
combinations for individual efforts. This has re- 
sulted in a vastly increased production and increased 
prosperity for all, although the inequalities of dis- 
tribution are constantly becoming more marked. 



SOCIOLOGY 



BY 



HUBERT M. SKINNER, PH.D. 

Editor of "Collegiate Course" 



SOCIOLOGY. 

BY HUBERT M. SKINNER. PH. D. 

THE PEEVEESION OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS. 
By Edward T.. Devine. 

AK INDUSTEIAL BASIS EOE SOCIAL INTEEPEETATIOK 
By Graham Taylor. 

A SOCIOLOGICAL GENEEALIZATION— THE EEACTION 

OF MOEAL INSTEUCTION UPON SOCIAL EEFOEM. 

By Jane Addams. 

A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION— THE EUSSELL SAGE 

FOUNDATION, AND ITS INITIAL ACTIVITIES. 

By Eobert W. de Forest. 

AN ILLUSTEATION OF SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS— 

CHAEITY— EELIEF AND WAGE EAENINGS. 

By S. E. Forman. 

SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES. 
By James McClelland. 



In this presentation of the subject of sociology, 
the aim has been to set forth clearly the nature of 
the science, and to offer notable examples of institu- 
tions and work based upon true sociological princi- 
ples. 

The able papers by Edward T. Devine, Graham 
Taylor, Jane Addams, and Robert T. de Forest, are 
republished, by permission, from ''The Survey," 
(Chicago). The valuable contribution by S. E. For- 
man first appeared in a publication of the Bureau of 
Labor (Washington). The chapters on "Social 
Science and Social Schemes," by James McClelland, 
are reproduced, with slight verbal changes, from the 
British edition in which they first appeared. 



SOCIOLOGY 



I. 
SOCIOLOGY AND THE SOCIAL SCIENCES. 

The science of sociology is probably more be- 
wildering than any other to the unscientific student 
or the unsystematic reader of to-day. One may pro- 
cure at the book store scores of volumes of 
*' sociology," bearing essentially the same title, and 
may find them to possess little or nothing in common, 
as to topics or treatment. Even when eminent pro- 
fessors and exponents of this science put forth 
bibliographies of their department of learning, one 
may find but few names in common in the lists 
presented. What wonder, then, if the practical man 
of affairs throw the entire subject aside and deny 
the existence of such a science! 

When sociology is mentioned in a social circle, 
there arises in the minds of the hearers a motley 
throng of ideas, of which the following are but a 
part: ethnology; the theory of the State; the 
servant-girl problem; demography; the problem of 
labor and wages; the liability of the employer for 
injuries to the employed; burial or cremation of the 
dead; comparative jurisprudence; a comparative 
study of religions; hygiene; pauperism; criminology; 

145 



146 SOCIOLOGY 

charities; marriage and divorce; applied psychology; 
public entertainments; public or private ownership 
of land; etiquet; ethics, etc., etc. This list might be 
indefinitely extended. 

It is plain that if sociology means observations 
and specifications concerning whatever may in- 
fluence the life and development of human society, 
its scope must include all history, and must be as 
wide as the world. 

Strictly speaking, sociology, *'the science or 
natm^al philosophy of society," is general in its 
nature, and treats of the elements of social phenom- 
ena. The subjects named above, and many others, 
are special social sciences, each of which has its own 
field for investigation of social facts, and its own 
deductions to make from them. 

"Sociology deals with subjects which men have 
written about for more than two thousand years," 
said Professor Albion W. Small in 1894;* "but for all 
that, sociology is a science less than fifty years old. ' ' 
Speaking of the studies of other days. Professor 
Small says : ' ' Many now living remember that when 
they asked to be taught about plants, they were re- 
ferred not to plants, but to books; when they wished 
to learn of rocks, they were told to study not rocks, 
but books; when they wanted to know the composi- 
tion of matter in- general, they were told to study 
not substances, but books. The teachers had not 
found out the superior pedagogy of things; their 
pedantry pinned its faith to books, containing the 
shadows cast upon the minds of other men by mental 
images of things. This pedagogic slavery to books 

* Small and Vincent's "Study of Society," published by American Book 
Company, New York and Chicago. 



SOCIOLOGY AND SOCIAL SCIENCES 147 

was a survival of the scholasticism which Roger 
Bacon began to destroy in the thirteenth century by 
turning from words to things, as the source of knowl- 
edge. Objective knowledge of society was im- 
possible until the sciences that dealt with simple 
combinations had developed the objective method." 

It was the laboratory that paved the way for 
sociology. The laboratory student observed for him- 
self. Sociology applies the laboratory method to the 
study of society as it actually is. It equips the 
student to investigate scientifically the conditions 
and actuations of the living world about him. 
The realistic novel, as a picture of some phase 
of society, is often entertaining and profitable in its 
lessons of human life. The novels of Charles Dickens 
achieved their marvelous popularity because they 
presented pictures of the society of his time. Even 
their dark and sad portrayals were accepted, as 
necessary to the inauguration of social reforms. But 
the scope of the greatest novel is limited. Even in 
the "story with a purpose," fact may be sub- 
ordinated to the novelist's art. The knowledge of 
the writer may well be questioned. The most meri- 
torious novel cannot have the scientific value of 
practical demonstration. 

Not only the lighter follies of which Dickens gave 
us pictures, and the occasional crimes which he por- 
trayed, are subjects for scientific inquiry. All the 
evils as well as all the blessings of society are equally 
legitimate topics. * 'Vested rights" may be inquired 
into. Old assumptions may be questioned. There 
is nothing that affects society which may not be 
brought to the light of day, investigated, and pro- 



148 SOCIOLOGY 

nounced upon. In a former time, the sores and ulcers 
of society were decently hidden from view. Certain 
vices of men and women were not to be discussed 
anjrwhere. They must be wholly ignored, in the 
interests of propriety and decency. Science knows 
nothing of such restrictions. "Whatever exists may 
be rationally studied, and must be studied if society 
is to progress. Even that which was deemed un- 
speakable, if it exists, must be taken into account 
and investigated, and the scientific remedy for it 
must be intelligently sought. 

The greatest fact of the new twentieth century 
is its realism; its abandonment of shams; its pitiless 
exposure of pretensions; its honest inquiry into 
every matter in which society is interested. 

The word sociology was coined by the French 
philosopher Auguste Comte, in his great work en- 
titled "Positive Philosophy," which was completed 
in 1842. It comes from the Latin word socius (mean- 
ing a companion, with its derivative societas, 
meaning companionship or society), and the class 
ending — ^logy, meaning discourse, or philosophy. 
Etymologically it means, therefore, the philosophy, 
or science, of society. 

In its broadest sense, as popularly conceived, it 
is more than the study of a lifetime ; it is more than 
an army of able and trained investigators could 
compass in the space of a generation. In its true 
sense, as accepted to-day, it offers only an equip- 
ment for the investigator, and seeks simply to 
prepare him for scientific investigations in the world- 
wide field of the many special social sciences which 
radiate from it. 



SOCIOLOGY AND SOCIAL SCIENCES 149 

A truly Christian spirit was formerly deemed 
sufficient for overcoming the ills of the world. The 
Christian spirit is necessary as a foundation, but it 
is not all. It does not furnish the skill, the intelli- 
gence, the special information needed. It will not 
answer for a knowledge of navigation on the sea, of 
surgery in the hospital, of skill in warfare. Sociol- 
ogy is not the foe, hut the handmaid, of religion. 
Charity, the noblest impulse of the Christian heart, 
may work only harm if applied unscientifically. 
Even mercy may bring upon society a curse, if mis- 
directed. The study of human society by the 
laboratory method will aid religion in every way, 
turning to the best account its noble beneficences, 
its Christ-like charities. 

Comte spoke of "social statics" in a sophomoric 
way, to indicate the established order of society. He 
spoke of "social dynamics" in the same way, to in- 
dicate the progress of man. Strange to say, Herbert 
Spencer employed the same terms before he had 
become acquainted with Comte. But Spencer, a 
thorough scientist, had in mind the meaning which 
these expressions would have to a laboratory 
student. With Spencer, "social statics" meant 
social forces in equilibrium; and "social dynamics," 
the disturbing forces which bring revolution. 

Herbert Spencer sought in his "Synthetic Phi- 
losophy" to cover the whole ground of sociology 
under the heads of "Social Statics" and "Social 
Dynamics." It was a noble task, but a task which 
no man, and no army of trained investigators, can 
ever fully accomplish. 

Spencer's sociology, it has been said, "is an ap- 



150 SOCIOLOGY 

plication of the philosophy of evolution to society." 
Starting with speculations as to the beginning of 
man in the world, it seeks to follow the integrations 
and differentiations of man's course; to consider 
homogeneity and indefiniteness, and their passage to 
heterogeneity and definiteness of organization. 

There are books of sociology which begin, in their 
speculations, far back of all history — far back, even, 
of prehistoric legend — back in the imagined era of 
which neither history nor the most ancient story can 
give account, and which treat of a "matriarchal 
age," preceding even the patriarchal age of man. 
These contain most interesting speculations on the 
primeval life of our race. 

The student equipped by a study of the essential 
principles of sociology will take delight in the 
"social statics" and "social dynamics" portrayed in 
certain classics of our literature. He will study 
every description, every word, and every act de^ 
scribed, from the standpoint of the sociological 
investigator of to-day. 

Some sociologists, as has been intimated, begin 
with their imagined primeval man, and speculate 
upon his surroundings, his social beginnings, his 
achievements. 

It is well, as George Eliot declares in one of her 
novels, to predicate a beginning, even if it be ficti- 
tious. Small and Vincent (of the Chicago Univer- 
sity) in their admirable "Introduction to the Study 
of Society," do this. They imagine the arrival of a 
wagon-load of immigrants at a point upon a prairie 
of the Great West, in pioneer days — ^that is to say, 
about the middle of the last century. The pioneers 



SOCIOLOGY AND SOCIAL SCIENCES 151 

encamp "upon the prairie grass. They form a settle- 
ment on or near an Indian trail, some miles from 
their nearest neighbor. A farm is begun. A ferry 
and a blacksmith shop are needed, and later are 
realized. A hamlet results. Others come to the new 
settlement. A village is formed; then a corporate 
town; then a city; finally, a capital and metropolis. 

Perhaps no better plan than the historical can be 
found for teaching an application of the principles 
of sociology, whether the assumed beginning be the 
advent of man upon earth or the starting of a Kan- 
sas farm. The same essential principle is illustrated 
in both. It is the rational, scientific study of man 
and his environment; of cause and effect, as related 
to the conduct of man in his association with his 
fellows, that sociology seeks to provide. 

The higher education of to-day has not for its 
aim the endowment of the student, in a congratu- 
latory way, with the achieved results of investigation 
in the past, but seeks rather to impress upon him the 
great work which needs to be done in his own time, 
and to qualify and equip him for taking an efficient 
part in this. 

n. 

WHAT SOCIOLOGY PURPOSES TO DO. 

Sociology contemplates society as an organism. 
This organism is to be investigated scientifically. 
The idea is borrowed from the laboratory. What is 
an organism? It is a living thing; a body composed 
of organs, of parts, that have separate and different 
functions to perform, and that are mutually de- 



152 SOCIOLOGY 

pendent and are essential to the life or well-Being of 
the whole. Animals and plants are organisms, and 
as such are studied and investigated in laboratories. 

When we consider society as an organism, we 
contemplate it as a great living being, a body with 
something akin to nerves and muscles, and organs 
of the special senses. Some have carried this idea 
far, and have described the Commonwealth, or State, 
as a huge monster of the imagination. Thomas 
Hobbes (1588-1679), having described the English 
Revolution as "The Behemoth," developed his study 
of the Commonwealth imder the title of "The Levia- 
than." Both animals were monsters described in 
* ' The Book of Job. ' ' Some have sought to identify the 
Biblical behemoth with the hippopotamus, and the 
Biblical leviathan with the whale; but there is some 
doubt as to the identity of the creatures described, 
and the popular imagination of many centuries has 
endowed them with fabulous dimensions and forms. 
The figure was an apt one, the more so because of 
the indefiniteness of the animal to which society was 
compared. But really, is there any need of metaphor 
for the purpose"? Is not human society itself a real 
organism, to be studied as an existing thing? 

A corporation, under our laws, is but an artificial 
person, existing only in the contemplation of the law. 
Society exists independently of statutes. It is an 
entity of itself. We may compare it with other 
organisms if we take care not to find analogies that 
do not exist. 

If a reference to Hobbes 's "Leviathan" seems to 
us to-day a turning back to the long ago, we should 
reflect that the book was but as a thing of yesterday 



WHAT SOCIOLOGY PUEPOSES TO DO 153 

when compared in time with the fable, happily told, 
which arrested an incipient rebellion in the ancient 
Roman state. For we all recall the Menenius Agrippa 
of our Eoman history, who quieted the turbulent 
mass of the commons with his story of the Belly and 
the Other Members, showing that while in an animal 
organism, the ''other members'' work to feed the 
belly, which seems to be only the recipient of favors, 
the members are really nourished and maintained by 
the service which the belly performs. 

What is the aim of sociology? What does it pur- 
pose to do ? What is the purpose of systematic study 
of any animal or plant, or of the human body, or of 
the human mind? Is it not to acquire an accurate 
knowledge of the subject? Passing thence, what is 
the use of such knowledge? It is useful in many 
ways. Primarily, it enables us to promote the health 
and the normal activities of the organism studied. 
A thorough knowledge of the horse is exceedingly 
valuable to any one who has much to do with horses. 
A knowledge of the physical, mental, and moral 
needs of a child is essential to his proper care and 
training. 

There is a very general impression that sociol- 
ogy has to do only or chiefly with the relief of present 
distress, the result of the diseases of the body politic. 
But in the case of any other organism, the relief of 
present distress constitutes but a minor part of the 
study. The conditions of healthful development, and 
those of arrested development, and disease, are alike 
needful to be studied. But prevention is more than 
cure, and healthy life is of vast importance as a sub- 
ject for study. 



154 SOCIOLOGY 

**Tlie aim of sociology is the development of 
social health, not the cure of social disease," says 
Professor Small;" the restoration of diseased mem- 
bers is important, but it is only negatively a part of 
the social task. It is necessary to insist upon this as- 
sertion, because it contradicts so much of the most 
confident social doctrines of the day. Sociology is 
confounded with charity, and charity is defined as 
'the duty of the rich toward the poor.' The defini- 
tion is one half platitude and the other half false- 
hood. There is no duty of one class toward another 
which is not essentially the duty of each human being 
to all his fellows. There is no genuine charity 
toward the poor which is not in principle the duty 
of the rich toward the rich. Charity is either the 
expression of man's duty, or it is an artificial and 
vicious code by which one class of men regulates a 
part of its conduct towards other classes considered 
as something less than men." 

Does this clear assertion depreciate the need, the 
value, the duty of charity? By no means. Charity, 
or love, is truly 'Hhe greatest thing in the world." 
But sociology is not charity. Sociology seeks to 
enable the charitable to know with scientific 
accuracy when and how and where and in what 
measure their benefactions will do the greatest good. 
Sociology seeks to direct the search for knowledge of 
that kind which will be of the greatest assistance to 
the charitable and philanthropic in bestowing their 
benefactions. 

With a clear understanding of this fact, the 
reader will be most interested in studying the plan of 
the "Russell Sage Foundation," which is an excellent 



WHAT SOCIOLOGY PUEPOSES TO DO 155 

example of a sociological institution. Far better is 
such an institution than a bottomless treasury for 
the bestowal of indiscriminate charity, the effect of 
which must be to encourage and breed pauperism 
and dependence. 

The influences at work in society may be studied 
under the subjects ''social statics" and "social 
dynamics." These expressions were coined by the 
Prench philosopher Comte, who first coined the word 
"sociology," and who is therefore regarded as the 
father of the modern science which bears that name. 
But as has been stated, Comte used these expressions 
loosely, and in a somewhat sophomoric way, to mean, 
respectively, social order and social progress. A 
study in the social statics of a past age, for instance, 
is presented in the "Prologue to the Canterbury 
Tales" of Chaucer; in reading which, one can study 
the state of society, or social order, of Chaucer's 
time. By ' ' social dynamics, ' ' Comte meant progress. 
A study in this is found in Tennyson's "Locksley 
Hall," and "Locksley Hall Sixty Years Afterward." 

The static and dynamic influences of society are 
simultaneously at work at all times. The result of 
the two in operation is called a moving equilibrium. 
It is the resultant of a " composition of forces. " It is 
the same in the world of man as in the physical 
world. It is the interaction of forces that determines 
the course of suns and planets. Social forces are no 
less real than those of the physical world, though 
they are often less easy to discover and to under- 
stand. 

The correlation of studies is a fundamental study 
in the elementary training of the pupil of to-day. 



156 SOCIOLOGY 

Its influence is seen in higher education, though this 
is unfortunately hindered by departmental segrega- 
tion in our colleges. The student of physics and of 
physical science in its various branches is best fitted 
by his studies to enter upon the work of sociological 
investigation. He is impressed with the law of cause 
and effect. He learns that true causes must exist for 
all the phenomena of the world. He depends not 
upon prescription, but upon demonstration. His is 
the mental attitude of an inquirer. He investigates 
accurately, and records carefully the results of his 
investigations. He makes legitimate deductions, and 
arrives at rational conclusions. He applies the 
scientific method to that most important of all sub- 
jects, the society of man. 



m. 

SOCIAL UNITS, GROUPS, AGGREGATES AND ORGANS. 

The individual is a social unit. He was not made 
to live alone. The story of Robinson Crusoe depicts 
the horror of solitude; and it is a relief to the reader 
to arrive at the point of the story at which the man 
*' Friday" appears upon the scene to supply a poor 
companionship to the castaway. The drama of 
^^Philoctetes," depicting the castaway of the isle of 
Lemnos, is one of the literary masterpieces of the 
ancient Greeks, and depicts with strong feeling the 
horror of continuous solitude. Charles Dickens, in 
his ** American Notes," was much impressed with the 
awfulness of solitary confinement in an American 



SOCIAL UNITS, GEOUPS, ETC. 157 

prison. "It is not good that the man should be 
alone," says the Good Book. Isolation tends to 
morbidness and to insanity. Fellowship — ^really 
good fellowship — ^tends to health of mind and to 
normal living. 

Social groups are composed of social units. The 
primary social group is the family. In Europe and 
America it is monogamous. In Asia and in Africa it 
is often polygamous. The answer of Nature to the 
advocate of polygamy is that the sexes are equally 
balanced, numerically. At, one period of life, the 
males are slightly in the majority; at another, the 
females. Thus Nature vindicates the sacred law of 
monogamy. 

The family includes the father and mother, the 
children, and the servants; perhaps also the grand- 
father and grandmother of either or both sides of the 
house. 

In the past, it has been assumed that the husband 
and father is absolutely the supreme head and 
authority of the household, and that the servant is in 
a position of subjection. In this day of ques- 
tioning, nothing is taken for granted. What are the 
rights of the husband and father? — of the wife and 
mother? — of the children? — of the servants, if there 
be any ? Surely a rational consideration of the rights 
of each member of the family is needed to-day. Nor 
will it answer to quote ancient authorities as to their 
rights. Sociology takes cognizance of the working 
theories upon which the household is conducted, and 
notes the results. 

Social aggregates are combinations of social 
groups in a mass which coheres upon some basis — as 



158 SOCIOLOGY 

of consanguinity; religious, political or philosophical 
belief; business associations; nationality or race, etc. 

Social organs are combinations of persons or fam- 
ilies, and of property, for the performance of some 
function which relates to society. Spencer finds 
three classes of social organs, — ^the sustaining, the 
distributing, and the regulating. With all of these, 
sociology has to deal. 

Professor Vincent emphasizes the many sided- 
ness of the individual, who may be a part of many 
social aggregates and groups. ^*The same man," he 
says, *'may be husband and father, neighbor, manu- 
facturer, bank director, alderman, Republican (or 
Democratic) committeeman, president of the street- 
railway, church deacon, member of a lodge, trustee of 
a hospital, officer of a social club, member of a college 
alumni association, of a literary club, of a Holland 
society; he may have scores of warm friends with 
whom he associates in many different ways." 

It is this network of relationship that binds 
society together. 

The limits of a social aggregate are very in- 
definite. In fact, one aggregate may be made up of 
various smaller aggregates. The aggregate does not 
imply any close relation of its units. Often member- 
ship in an aggregate is a wholly involuntary matter, 
as in the case of race or nationality, kinship, 
language, etc. Such aggregates as clubs, political 
parties, professions, trades, social classes, etc., are 
classed as voluntary. Religious aggregates partake 
of the nature of both. 

The units of a social organ are more or less closely 
united, and the existence of an organ generally 



SOCIAL UNITS, GEOUPS, ETC. 159 

implies something of property devoted to its func- 
tional purpose. A manufacturing establishment is 
an organ. A church, a college, a newspaper, a means 
of transportation is an organ. It is not always 
possible to distinguish an aggregate from an organ. 
The employes of a railway system form an aggre- 
gate. By uniting for purposes of mutual advantage, 
they constitute an organ, as well. Even the family, 
— the primary social group, — while considered gen- 
erally as an aggregate, may by the co-operation of 
its units become a social organ. Those who hold 
passively to a common religious belief may, as an 
aggregate in a community, have no special coherence ; 
or they may co-operate effectively in a church, thus 
constituting a social organ. The tendency of the 
time is toward a multiplicity of organs, representa- 
tive of social aggregates. 

The three classes of organs designated by Herbert 
Spencer, and generally recognized, — the sustaining, 
the distributing, and the regulating, — are easily dis- 
tinguished, as a rule. Earms, factories, mines, etc., 
belong to the first of these; transportation com- 
panies, mercantile establishments, express and tele- 
graph companies, etc., to the second; Government, or 
control, in its various forms, — domestic, institu- 
tional, industrial, civil, and religious, — educational 
institutions, etc., belong to the third. 

This classification, not always very definite as to 
boundaries, is found to be convenient in a study of 
social groups and aggregates. 



160 SOCIOLOGY 

IV. 

METHOD OF SOCIOLOGICAL STUDY. 

Sociological study is in principle the same, 
whether applied to a large field or to one of small 
compass. For the larger study there must be co- 
operation of trained investigators, with facilities for 
ascertaining with accuracy the social facts desired. 
The nttle field of a rural social group — a small town- 
ship, or a school district — may be easily investigated 
by an individual of scientific aptitude who, as a resi- 
dent, is ''at home" in the neighborhood. In fact, 
there is many a venerable man — ^physician, attorney, 
minister, merchant, or teacher — who from long and 
intimate acquaintance with the people of his village 
and its surroundings, with their interests, their aims, 
and their conditions, is in himself a cyclopedia of 
sociological information relating to the community. 
The people among whom he has lived for almost a 
lifetime are to him an open book. If he have an 
analytical turn and something of a scientific training, 
he has perhaps arranged his data logically in his 
mind. Like M. Jourdain in Moliere's immortal 
comedy, who had been talking prose for forty years 
without knowing it, this village patriarch and phi- 
losopher has perhaps been mentally doing excellent 
sociological work for as long a period without know- 
ing of the existence of the science to which that work 
really belongs. 

The essentials of fitness for such work are the 
same as for all scientific investigation. There must 
be in the mind of the investigator a freedom from 
prejudice. He must be ready to accept of the truth 



METHOD OF SOCIOLOGICAL STUDY 161 

as he finds it, without false coloring from precon- 
ceived notions. He must be accurate and pains- 
taking in his own observations. He must apply all 
needed and possible tests as to the authenticity of 
what he receives from others. He must make only 
logical deductions from the facts acquired. 

As an example of sociological work that may be 
done in the investigation of a rural group, the follow- 
ing suggestive outline is offered: 

Subjects to be Studied by Observation and Investi- 
gation. 

1. The Topography of the District. The land; 
its boundaries, elevation, relief, ponds and 
streams, native trees and plants, native fauna, 
range of temperature, rainfall, etc. (All this is 
to be viewed in the light of human interest, as 
affecting the people.) Method of describing land 
in legal documents; the original and subsequent 
surveys; natural causes affecting boundaries; 
highways, and the reasons for the selection of 
their routes. 

2. Buildings. Houses, barns, stores, shops, 
mills, school and church edifices, etc.; their qual- 
ity as to size and capacity, convenience, health- 
fulness and comfort, safety, durability, artistic 
features, expense, etc. 

3. Classification of the Social Units (Individ- 
uals). Their division into aggregates as to na- 
tionality; as to religious proclivities; as to polit- 
ical relations; as to sex; as to self-support; as 
to health; as to education; as to social prominence. 



162 SOCIOLOGY 

4. Industrial and Commercial Activities. 
Agriculture — ^how conducted, and at what advan- 
tage or disadvantage; trade — ^how conducted, and 
under what favoring or discouraging conditions ; 
the credit system and the cash system, as applied, 
and the advantages and disadvantages of each; 
wages, and conditions of labor; means of trans- 
portation and of communication, and their grade 
of efficiency. 

5. Social Organs and Institutions. The school 
— ^its discipline, and the quality of its intellectual 
and social training; the churches, and the 
strength of their religious, moral, and social in- 
fluence; entertainments of an intellectual char- 
acter; out-door games and sports; social, literary, 
scientific, historical, political, or religious so- 
cieties or clubs; public libraries and private col- 
lections of books; reading rooms; newspapers and 
magazines most generally read. 

6. Law and Order. The standard of morality 
generally observed; respect for law, and its en- 
forcement; the general standard of courtesy and 
respect for the feelings of the individual; the 
means and instrumentalities of public censorship 
of morals; the home influences of the community 
— ^their strength and weakness. 

7. Undesirable Conditions. Faults or defaults 
of roads, bridges, drainage, sewerage, water sup- 
ply, protection from public dangers, heating and 
ventilation of buildings, etc.; faults of family, 
school, or civic administration; insufficient initia- 
tive, enterprise, and co-operation; excessive 



METHOD OF SOCIOLOGICAL STUDY 163 

political, denominational, or other controversy; 
the influence of depraved and vicious characters; 
insufficiency of sociability; gossip, demoralizing 
literature, and frivolity; idleness, dependence, 
and lack of ambition on the part of individuals; 
laxity of business methods and morals. 

The study of larger social groups must take into 
account many conditions and many social organs not 
represented in a small commimity. 

The revelations of the abnormal and the shocking 
in human society, — the crime, the folly, the mental 
suffering (often unmerited), the physical pain, the 
pathos of conditions, — often lead to pessimistic feel- 
ings and beliefs. From these revelations many turn 
away in horror, and exclaim that it was not thus in 
years gone by; that the world is rapidly growing 
worse. Even if this be true, it is best for us to know 
it and to look the fact squarely in the face. But is it 
true? When there were no telegraphs to transmit 
the news to great daily journals, the calamities of 
the people were not recorded for all to read. The 
real difference between our own time and the times 
of the past is that the pains and griefs of society 
are brought to the knowledge of the great world, 
whereas they were formerly hidden in their isolation. 

Never before were agencies so vast, so efficient, 
as now put forth for the amelioration of social con- 
ditions. The Salvation Army, church and university 
"settlement" work, and many other social agencies 
of great importance have brought together social 
units who formerly seldom came into contact, — 
never, indeed, except under circumstances of humil- 



164 SOCIOLOGY 

iation to one or to both. Sociological investigation 
has added vastly to the betterment of sociological 
conditions by bringing to light waiting fields for 
philanthropic endeavor, and by multiplying in ef- 
fectiveness every contribution of means or of per- 
sonal work directed to this end. 

In chapters which follow are presented ex- 
amples of work illustrative of the method and results 
of sociological study. 

V. 

NOTABLE BOOKS OF SOCIOLOGY. 

Among the more important works on the subject 
of sociology are the following, the titles of which are 
presented here for the convenience of the student. 
Some of the books will be found unavailable to the 
general reader. Some, indeed, have never been 
translated into English, but deserve mention because 
of their influence upon the learned of many lands. 

1. *' Positive Philosophy," by Auguste Comte. 
(Paris, 1830-42.) 

2. ''Social Statics," by Herbert Spencer. (Lon- 
don, 1850.) 

3. ''Social Reform in France," by Le Play. 
(Paris, 1864.) 

4. "Principles of Sociology," by Herbert Spen- 
cer. (London, 1876-9.) 

5. "Thoughts Upon the Social Science of the 
Future," by Paul von Lilienfeld. (Tiibingen, 1873.) 

6. ' ' Structure and Life of the Social Body, " by A. 
Schaffle. (Tiibingen, 1874.) 



NOTABLE BOOKS OF SOCIOLOGY 165 

7. *' Dynamic Sociology, or Applied Social Sci- 
ence, as Based Upon Statical Sociology and the Less 
Complex Sciences, ' ' by Lester F. Wood. (New York, 
1883.) 

8. *^Tlie Foundation of Sociology," by Ludwig 
Gumplowicz. (Vienna, 1885.) 

9. "Studies in Social Life," by George C. Lor- 
imer. (Chicago, 1886, London.) 

10. "Introduction to Sociology," by Guillaume 
de Greef. (Brussells, 1886-9.) 

11. "An Introduction to Social Philosophy," by 
John S. Mackenzie. (London, 1890.) 

12. "The Strife Among Human Societies," by J. 
Navicon. (Paris, 1893.) 

13. "Social Science and Social Schemes," by 
James McClelland. (London, 1894.) 

14. "An Introduction to the Study of Society," 
by Professor Albion W. Small and George E. Vin- 
cent. (New York, 1894.) 

15. "The Principles of Sociology," by Franklin 
Henry Giddings. (New York, 1896.) 

16. "Inductive Sociology," by Franklin Henry 
Giddings. (New York, 1901.) 



iTHE PERVERSION OF SOCIAL 
INSTITUTIONS 

Hospitals of an earlier day, like prisons and other 
institutions in wMch people were crowded without 
proper safeguards, sometimes became centers of in- 
fection. Skilled medical attendance was provided, 
but good nursing, isolation rooms, and sanitary 
cleanliness were wanting. Then Florence Nightin- 
gale announced the clarifying doctrine that hospi- 
tals, whatever else they do, should not make people 
sick. From this negative but fruitful axiom, there 
came as logical corollaries the essential conditions 
of a good hospital. The principle which redeemed 
the hospital is one which is capable of application to 
other institutions. 

The most obvious analogy to the principle that 
hospitals should not make people sick, is that prisons 
should not make criminals. There is much evidence 
of the need for applying this negative but elemen- 
tary doctrine. Prisons and jails which receive con- 
victs for brief, definite sentences, permitting associ- 
ation of young offenders with hardened criminals, 
giving no reformative or educational discipline, earn 
the reproach of the insanitary hospital. They per- 
vert the very principle of their existence. They 
spread the infection of crime, even as the perverted 
hospital spreads the infection of disease. The re- 

166 



PEEYEESION OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 167 

formatory has its legitimate and necessary place in 
the penal system. So has the colony in which, as 
in a hospital for the insane, incorrigible enemies of 
society may be permanently isolated. But the 
prison which represents merely the idea of ven- 
geance and punishment is hard put to it to justify 
its existence at all. And when it makes criminals 
of its inmates the balance against it becomes griev- 
ously heavy. 

The police system should not create hostility 
towards the representatives of law and order. The 
police drag-net, which on the assassination of a police 
officer brings into court innocent and law-abiding 
laborers, is qualified to produce just such an effect. 
Needless clubbing and other brutality have this 
effect. This attitude of hostility is natural for the 
small merchant who is not protected against crimi- 
nal blackmail, and for the Italian laborer, who, in 
despair of such police protection as he has enjoyed 
in his own country, arms himself with knife or 
revolver, only to find that this is more certain to be 
punished than the *' black-hand" outrage against 
which it was intended to be a protection. Unjusti- 
fied arrest, third-degree torture, protection of crimi- 
nals for pay, and other perversions of the police 
power, are on a par with the crime-making prison, 
and the insanitary, disease-breeding hospital. 

Charity should not make paupers. Here again 
we have an application of our general principle that 
should prove very useful in testing the value of the 
work of charitable societies, and the wisdom of the 
practices and policies of individuals who think them- 
selves charitable. Strength and not comfort is the 



168 SOCIOLOGY 

end which we should rank highest among the good 
things which we covet for those who look to us for 
help. Charity is to relieve distress, as the police 
system is to prevent crime, but it is equally essential 
that it should guard effectively against the perver- 
sion of its function. It must not itself multiply the 
occasions for its exercise. 

Industry should not make workers unemployable. 
Here is opened up an exceedingly interesting field of 
speculation. Excessive hours of labor, under-pay, 
irregular employment, throwing men out of employ- 
ment as a first resort in periods of business retrench- 
ment, displacing workers at the first sign of ad- 
vancing age by young men because of their extra 
strength and pliability, are among the features of 
industry which may be regarded not unfairly as per- 
versions of its natural function. They tend to make 
men unemployable, which is the very destruction of 
industry. Goods must be produced, and transported, 
and placed on the market, and sold; but all this 
should be done in such a way as to conserve the use- 
fulness of those who do the work, not in such a way 
as to destroy their usefulness. 

The school should not make its pupils inefficient. 
The function of education is to pass on to the grow- 
ing generation the accumulated achievements of the 
race. Its aim is to put the next generation on the 
shoulders of the present, both in respect of earning 
and producing capacity, and in respect of powers of 
enjoyment. The life for which children are to be 
prepared is one of work and of leisure. They should 
be made efficient in both. The school which makes 



PEEVERSION OF SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS 169 

misfits, either vocational or simply as living, rational 
human beings, compelled daily to choose between 
good and evil, and between the good and the better, 
belongs with the hospital, the prison, the police sys- 
tem and the charity, which miss their natural calling. 
The school, whatever else it does, should not make 
misfits. This is not the whole philosophy of educa- 
tion, but it is a good beginning of it. The axiom 
which is so useful when applied to other institutions, 
will at least help us determine whether a given school 
system is failing to meet the most elementary and 
fundamental of all tests, whether it is perverting its 
function, whether it is producing inefficiency instead 
of strength. 

Churches should not create an indifference to 
religion. Missions should not make bread lines. 
Recreation should not devitalize. Politics should 
not undermine good citizenship. Retail trade should 
not result in the exploitation of consumers. Child- 
saving agencies should not exhibit an excessive mor- 
tality. State labor departments should not neglect 
to make an intelligible report in regard to the factory 
conditions subject to their supervision. A Federal 
investigation of the labor of women and children 
should not be unable to make, from time to time, 
reports of progress, like the bulletins of the Census 
Bureau, and thus be compelled to present its results 
in bulk long afterwards, when the facts upon which 
it reports are perhaps no longer of interest or value. 

The perversion of social institutions is oftener 
than not the result of thoughtless or indifferent di- 
rection. Those who ultimately pay the bills for their 



170 SOCIOLOGY 

creation and maintenance have no desire that hospi- 
tals shall make people sick, or that prisons shall make 
criminals, or that charity shall make paupers, or that 
factories shall make workingmen unemployable. 

Edward T. Devine. 



AN INDUSTRIAL BASIS FOR SOCIAL 
INTERPRETATION 

Statement, more than argument, is needed to es- 
tablish the vital and essential connection between 
effective philanthropy, morality, or civic progress, 
and industrial conditions and relations. The connec- 
tion of industry with all these spheres of life and 
effort is often causal, always conditioning. Liveli- 
hood and Hfe are indistinguishably identified in fact, 
if not in our theories of either. There is no such 
immorality as that which so divorces life from live- 
lihood that the way of making a Living is not the 
way to live. There is no such demoralization as that 
which fairly disintegrates everyone able to work who 
has no opportunity or inclination to earn a Living. 

Philanthropy's first principle is industrial self- 
help. To the diagnosis of dependency, the knowl- 
edge of industrial conditions is recognized to be as 
essential as personally to know the dependent indi- 
vidual or family. The standard of living in the in- 
dustrial class to which a needy family belongs is more 
and more seen to be the test of the method and the 
measure, as well as of the human considerateness of 
reHef. The first inquiry of the charity worker is 
for the claim upon the industrial insurance of the 
union or friendly society, of the employers' benefit 
or state guarantee against total loss from accident, 

171 



172 SOCIOLOGY 

sickness, unemployment, or death. Industrial casual- 
ties are among the deepest tap-roots of dependency. 
Occupational diseases are newly accepted terms of 
both medical and social pathology. Housing and 
health are indissolubly connected by the rate of 
wages. Child labor is economic waste. Unrestricted 
hours and unregulated conditions of women's toil 
tell the toll of blighted births, degenerate lives, and 
untimely deaths, in our vital statistics. 

Both personal and civic safety and progress are 
more and more dependent upon the public control 
and regulation of living and working conditions. 
Philanthropy, morality, state-craft, and even religion 
are confronted by the industrial situation in every 
way they turn. Those interested or engaged in pro- 
moting social, civic, and moral efficiency are forced 
to face the results of these economic forces resident 
in industrial conditions and relations. 

But where to look for the facts and the spirit 
which interpret the sources, the motives, the move- 
ments, and the measures which produced these 
results in personal destiny and public development, 
most people are at a loss to know. The strike and 
lockout are for the most part isolated in thought and 
judgment from the conditions that occasioned them, 
if not from the consequences produced by them. The 
organizations of labor and capital alike are too often 
accounted for and condemned because of the person- 
alities which aggravate their differences, when they 
ought to be explained, if not justified, by the eco- 
nomic necessities which make them inevitable. Dis- 
turbances of industrial relationships and the public 
peace are intensified by being detached in our knowl- 



INDUSTEIAL BASIS 173 

edge from the world-wide forces of which they are 
but the local manifestation. Industrial conflict is 
not due to the last agitator or the latest cut in wages. 
The labor movement has a history, a literature, insti- 
tutions of its own, and a powerful press. Whole 
classes of men and their organized movements are 
hopelessly misunderstood and misinterpreted by not 
being allowed to interpret themselves and make 
themselves understood by those outside their own 
ranks. Nothing is more dangerous in a democracy 
than to allow a sense of detachment to divide a class 
from the mass, a craft or an individual from the com- 
munity of interests in the working world, personal 
and private instincts and ideals from public welfare. 
There is therefore a wide field and a practical 
function lying between social aims and efforts and 
industrial conditions and relations. No individual 
or public interest can afford to leave this field unoc- 
cupied, or this function unfulfilled. 

Graham Taylor. 



A SOCIOLOGICAL GENERALIZATION — THE 

REACTION OF MORAL INSTRUCTION 

UPON SOCIAL REFORM 

Each generation of clergymen, moralists, educa- 
tors, and publicists find themselves facing an inevi- 
table dilemma — ^first, to keep the young committed 
to their charge ^^imspotted from the world;" and 
second, to connect them with the ruthless and mate- 
rialistic world all about them, in such wise that they 
may make it the theater for their noblest exploits. 

It is fortunate for these teachers that some time 
during the *' Golden Age" lying between the years of 
thirteen and twenty-three the most prosaic youth is 
seized by a new interest in remote and universal 
ends; and that if a clue be but given him by which 
he may connect his lofty aims with his daily living, 
he himself will drag the very heavens into the most 
sordid tenement. The perpetual difficulty consists 
in finding the clue for him, and placing it in his 
hands ; for while the greatest possible wrong is done 
him if this expanding period of human life is not 
seized upon for spiritual purposes, at the same time, 
if the teaching is too detached from life, it does not 
result in any psychic impulsion at aU. Youth invari- 
ably becomes impatient of a creed which does not 
afford a guide to actual conduct; and it must be 
grand, vague and noble conduct at that! 

174 



A SOCIOLOGICAL GENEEALIZATION 175 

We are obliged to admit,' however, that in many 
cases both the school and the church have failed to 
perform this office for him, and that thousands of 
young people in every great city are either frankly 
hedonistic or are vainly attempting to work out for 
themselves a satisfactory code of morals. They cast 
about in libraries, in settlements, and in theaters, 
for the clue which shall connect their loftiest hopes 
with their actual living. 

Several years ago a committee of lads came to see 
me, in order to complain of a certain high-school 
principal because ''He never talks to us about life." 
When urged to make a clearer statement, they added, 
*'He never asks us what we are going to be. We 
can't get a word out of him, excepting lessons and 
keeping quiet in the halls." 

Of the dozens of young women who have begged 
me to make a connection for them between their 
dreams of social usefulness and their actual living, 
I recall one of the many whom I had sent back to 
her clergyman, returning with this remark: "His 
only suggestion was that I should be responsible 
every Sunday for fresh flowers upon the altar. I 
did that when I was fifteen, and liked it then; but 
when you have come back from college and are 
twenty-two years old, it doesn't quite fit in with the 
vigorous efforts you have been told are necessary, 
in order to make our social relations more Christian." 

That old desire to achieve, to capture the world, 
seizes the ardent youth of today with a stern com- 
mand to bring about juster social conditions. They 
are impatient with "rose water for the plague" pre- 
scriptions, and insist upon something strenuous and 



176 SOCIOLOGY 

vital. It would seem a golden opportunity for those 
to whom is committed the task of spiritual instruc- 
tion; for to preach and seek justice in human affairs 
is one of the oldest obligations of religion and 
morality. All that would be necessary would be to 
attach this teaching to the contemporary world, and 
really to believe that ''if the hydraulic force of re- 
ligion could be turned into conduct, there is nothing 
which it could not accomplish." 

The particular faith from which it is preached is 
not so important as that it should be connected with 
actual social movements, in such wise that the eager 
youth might feel a tug upon his faculties and a sense 
of participation in the moral life about him. The 
youth of Jewish birth has been taught that prophets 
and statesmen for three thousand years declared 
Jehovah to be a God of Justice, who hated oppres- 
sion and desired righteousness more than sacrifice. 
But there is no real appeal to his spirit of moral ad- 
venture unless he is told that the most stirring at- 
tempts to translate justice into the modern social 
order have been inaugurated and carried forward by 
men of his own race, and that until he joins in the 
contemporary manifestations of that attempt, he is 
recreant to his highest traditions and obligations. 

The Christian youth has been taught that man's 
heart-breaking adventure to find justice in the order 
of the universe, moved the God of Heaven himself 
to send a Mediator in order that the justice which 
man craves, and the mercy by which alone he can 
endure his weakness, might be reconciled; but he will 
not make the doctrine his own until he reduces it to 
action, and tries at one and the same time to "do 



A SOCIOLOGICAL GENERALIZATION 177 

justice" and to '*love mercy," realizing in his own 
experience that the order can never be reversed. 

If your youth calls himself an "evolutionist" (it 
is rather hard to find a name for this youth, but there 
are thousands of him, and a fine fellow he often is), 
he knows of that long struggle beginning with the 
earliest tribal effort to establish just relations be- 
tween man and man; and that, after all, justice can 
be worked out upon this earth only by those who 
will not tolerate a wrong to the feeblest member of 
the community; and that it will become a social force 
in proportion only as men steadfastly desire it and 
establish it. 

If the young people who have been subjected to 
this varied religious instruction have also been 
stirred to action, — or, rather, if the instruction has 
been given validity because it has been attached to 
conduct, — ^then it may be comparatively easy to 
bring about in America certain social reforms which 
now seem so impossible. 

The whole agitation for state industrial insur- 
ance may afford a good example. In one year in 
the German Empire one hundred thousand chil- 
dren were cared for through money paid from the 
state insurance fund to their widowed mothers and 
invalided fathers. Certainly we shall have to bestir 
ourselves if we would care for the victims of the 
industrial order as well as other nations do; and it 
ought to be easy to exhort a care for the widow and 
the fatherless from the point of view of all religions, 
or from that evolutionary standpoint which asserts 
that a soimd physique is the only basis of progress. 



178 SOCIOLOGY 

and that to guard the mothers of the race is simply 
sanity. 

And yet, from lack of preaching of these varied 
creeds, we do not unite for action because we are 
not stirred to act at all; and protective legislation 
in America is shamefully inadequate. 

We say in despair, sometimes, that because we 
are a people who hold such varied creeds, there are 
not enough of one religious faith to secure any- 
thing; but the truth is that it is easy to unite for 
action people whose hearts have once been filled by 
the fervor of that willing devotion which religion 
always generates in the human breast, from what- 
ever creed it may be preached. It is comparatively 
easy to enlarge a moral concept, but extremely diffi- 
cult to give it to an adult for the first time, — as those 
of you, for instance, who have had experience with 
certain legislators can testify. We are failing to 
meet the requirements of our industrial life with 
courage and success, simply because we do not real- 
ize that unless we establish some of that humane 
legislation which has its roots in a consideration for 
hiunan life, our industrialism itself will fall behind. 
It is suffering from inbreeding, growing ever more 
unrestrained and more ruthless. It would seem 
obvious that, in order to secure relief in a com- 
munity dominated by commercial ideals, an appeal 
must be made to the old moral sanctions for human 
conduct; that we must reach motives more substan- 
tial and enduring than the mere fleeting experiences 
of one phase of modern industry, which vainly 
imagines that its growth would be curtailed if the 
health of its employes were guarded by the state. 



A SOCIOLOGICAL GENEEALIZATION 179 

And yet, when we attempt to appeal to these old 
sanctions, the conclusion is often forced upon us 
that they have not been ingrained in the present 
generation; that they have never been worked over 
into character; that they cannot be relied upon when 
they are brought into contact with the arguments of 
commercialism; that the colors of the flag flying over 
the fort of our spiritual resources wash out and dis- 
appear when the storm actually breaks. 

It seems sometimes as if the church and the 
school, because they are so reluctant to admit that 
conduct is the supreme and efficient test of moral 
validity, had turned over to commercialism itself the 
teachings upon our most vexed social problems. To 
the credit of commercialism be it said that it has 
boldly stepped in and, so far as people will pay for 
it, is entering the field as moral instructor. 

There is no doubt that we are at the beginning 
of a period when the stage is becoming the most suc- 
cessful popular teacher in public morals. Many 
times the perplexed hero reminds one of Emerson's 
description of Margaret Fuller: ^*I don't know 
where I am going. Follow me." But nevertheless 
the stage is dealing with these moral themes in which 
the public is most interested. This may have come 
about largely through the very exigencies of dra- 
matic art. The playwrights must at least reduce 
their creeds to action; they must translate their be- 
liefs into interesting conversation, if they are to be 
played at all. 

While many young people, and older ones as well, 
go to the theater if only to see represented and to 
hear discussed the themes which seem to them so 



180 SOCIOLOGY 

tragically important, there is no doubt that what 
they hear there, flimsy and poor as it often is, easily 
becomes their actual moral guide. In moments of 
moral crisis, they turn to the sayings of the hero 
who found himself in a similar plight. The sayings 
may not me profound, but they are at least appli- 
cable to conduct. It would be a striking result if 
the teachings of the contemporaneous stage should 
at last afford the moral platform upon which the 
various members of the community would unite for 
common action in matters of social reform. This 
platform would be adopted, not because the teach- 
ings of the stage had of necessity been fine, but 
because they had made an appeal for justice and 
fair play in our social relations, and had at the same 
time reduced this appeal to suggestions for actual 
conduct. A dozen plays at the present moment are 
on the stage whose titles might easily be translated 
into a proper heading for a sociological lecture or a 
sermon: 

1. ''The Battle" might be called The Need for 
Model Tenements. 

2. ''The Melting Pot," The Value of Immigra- 
tion. 

3. "The Easiest Way," The Entrenchments of 
The Social Evil. 

4. "The Strong People," A Strike and Its Un- 
fair Suppression. 

5. "The Man of the Hour," An Effort to Com- 
bat Municipal Corruption. 

6. "The Lion and the Mouse," The Ruthless 
Methods of Big Business. 



A SOCIOLOGICAL GENEEALIZATION 181 

7. ^'Tlie Dawn of a To-Morrow," Optimism as 
a Rectifier of Social Wrongs. 

8. *'The Third Degree,'' The Sweating in Police 
Courts Resulting in False Confessions. 

9. "Salvation Nell," has been called, rightly or 
wrongly, The Divine Comedy of the Poor. 

10. **The Writing on the Wall," An Exposition 
of the Methods of Trinity Church in Administering 
Its Property. 

11. "Samson," The Result of Frenzied Fi- 
nance. 

12. "The Flag Station," The Accidents Result- 
ing from Long Hours of Labor. 

This list does not even mention the plays of 
Ibsen, Shaw, and Hauptman, which deal so directly 
with moral issues that the moralists themselves 
wince under their teachings and declare them brutal. 

Educators, moralists, clergymen, publicists, all 
of us forget how very early we are in the experi- 
ment of founding a first civilization in this trying 
climate of America, and that we are making the ex- 
periment in the most materialistic period of all his- 
tory, having as our last court of appeal against that 
materialism only the wonderful and inexplicable 
instinct for justice which resides in the heart of 
man. This instinct may be cultivated or neglected, 
as we choose to give it opportunity for expression, 
and it is never so irresistible as when the heart is 
young. 

It is as if we ignored a wistful creature who 
walked through our city streets calling out, "I am 
the spirit of youth; with me aU things are possible." 



182 SOCIOLOGY 

We fail to understand what he wants, or even to see 
that he is caught into all sorts of movements for 
social amelioration, some of them abortive and fool- 
ish simply because they appeal to him as an effort 
to moralize our social relations. We may either 
feed the divine fire of youth with the historic ideals 
and dogmas which are after all the most precious 
possessions of the race, or we may smother it by 
platitudes and heavy discourses. We may listen to 
the young voice rising clear above the roar of indus- 
trialism, and to the prudent counsels of commer- 
cialism, or we may become hypnotized by the sud- 
den new emphasis placed upon wealth and power, 
and forget the supremacy of spiritual forces in men's 
affairs. Jane Addams. 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION— THE RUS- 
SELL SAGE FOUNDATION, AND ITS 
INITIAL ACTIVITIES 

The purpose of the Russell Sage Foundation, as 
set forth in its charter, is "the improvement of social 
and living conditions in the United States of Amer- 
ica." Its charter also provides that it shall be 
within these purposes "to use any means to that end 
which from time to time shall seem expedient to its 
members or trustees, including research, publica- 
tion, education, the establishment and maintenance 
of charitable or benevolent activities, agencies and 
institutions, and the aid of any such activities, agen- 
cies or institutions already established." 

Mrs. Russell Sage, in her letter of April 19, 1907, 
which may be called her deed of gift, further defines 
the scope of the Foundation, and the limitations 
within which she wishes her trustees to act, as 
follows : 

"The scope of the Foundation is not only national 
but is broad. It should, however, preferably not 
undertake to do that which is now being done or is 
likely to be effectively done by other individuals or 
by other agencies. It should be its aim to take up 
the larger and more difficult problems, and to take 
them up so far as possible in such a manner as to 
secure co-operation and aid in their solution. 

"In some instances it may wisely initiate move- 

183 



184 SOCIOLOGY 

merits, in the expectation of having them maintain 
themselves unaided after once being started. In 
other instances it may start movements with the 
expectation of carrying them on itself. 

*'I have had some hesitation as to whether the 
Foundation should be permitted to make invest- 
ments for social betterment which themselves pro- 
duce income, as, for instance, small houses or tene- 
ments, in distinction from investments in securities 
intended only to produce income. I realize that in- 
vestments for social betterment, even if producing 
some income, may not produce a percentage so large 
as that produced by bonds or like securities, and that 
the income of the Foundation might be therefore 
diminished by such investments. On the other 
hand, if I fail to give the Foundation powers in this 
respect it may be unable to initiate or establish 
important agencies or institutions. 

''I decide to authorize the trustees of the Foun- 
dation to invest the principal of the fund, to the 
extent of not more at any one time than one-quarter 
of its entire amount, directly in activities, agencies, 
or institutions established and maintained for the 
improvement of social and living conditions, pro- 
vided that such investments shall, in the opinion of 
the trustees, be likely to produce an annual income 
of not less than three per cent." 

Quite independently of Mrs. Sage's desires as 
expressed in this deed of gift, wise trustees would 
naturally have directed their efforts *'in such man- 
ner as to secure co-operation and aid." Her ex- 
pressed desire has made this course of action all the 
more imperative. At the very outset the broad scope 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 185 

of the Foundation not unnaturally attracted to it all 
kinds of proposals from many who were acting with 
the best intentions. It was overwhelmed with ap- 
plications for individual and corporate relief. It 
was overwhelmed with applications from educational 
institutions of all kinds and churches of all denomi- 
nations. It seemed important to the trustees to 
further define and limit its sphere of action. Con- 
sequently, at one of the very earliest meetings the 
question of scope was considered, and the following 
conclusions were unanimously reached: 

The Scope 

(a) The Foundation will not attempt to relieve 
individual or family need. Its function is to eradi- 
cate so far as possible the causes of poverty and 
ignorance, rather than to relieve the sufferings of 
those who are poor or ignorant. Not that it is not a 
noble work to relieve suffering, however caused, but 
that if the Foundation should attempt to relieve 
such suffering there would be nothing left with 
which to perform the higher function of trying to 
prevent its existence. There is another equally 
cogent reason for this conclusion. The relief of in- 
dividual need is not one of the ^'larger and more 
difficult problems." It is a duty which every one 
of us who is more prosperous owes to our less pros- 
perous neighbor. Every neighborhood should re- 
lieve its own cases of individual need for its own 
sake, and every neighborhood is measurably meeting 
this obligation. The sources of neighborly charity 
would be dried up if such needs were supplied from 
without. 



186 SOCIOLOGY 

(b) The sphere of higher education, that served 
by our universities and colleges, is not within the 
scope of the Foundation. It is sufficiently cared for 
by the General Education Board. Not so, however, 
elementary education of the kind that directly affects 
social and living conditions, e. g., industrial educa- 
tion; education in the household arts; training of 
charity workers, etc. 

(c) Aid to churches for church purposes, what- 
ever their denomination, is not within the scope of 
the Foundation. 

The initial work of the Foundation has been 
largely in the line of cooperation with other efforts, 
corporate and individual, and necessarily so, quite 
aside from the greater results to be obtained by 
combining its resources with the efforts of others. 
It could not otherwise have immediately made its 
income useful. It was fortunate in securing at the 
very beginning the services of John M. Glenn as 
director; but to have effectively used its resources 
directly through agencies created by it, or persons 
employed by it, would have involved defer- 
ring action until a staff had been gathered to- 
gether and trained in its service. In whatever lines 
of progress immediate action seemed clear, it was 
deemed wise to utilize its capacities for direction 
and its money promptly; and it was immaterial to 
the Foundation whether in co-operating action the 
Foundation should be known as the *' Brown," 
''Jones" or "Robinson" of the firm, or whether it 
should simply be the nameless and frequently un- 
known, but none the less efficient, "Co." 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 187 

Early Activities 

The early activities of the Russell Sage Founda- 
tion may be roughly grouped under several different 
heads. 

First, educational propagandist movements di- 
rected toward ends clearly within the purposes of 
the Foundation, and as to which there could be no 
doubt of the expediency of action. 

Second, research relating to lines of effort in 
which action might be expedient, but in which either 
expediency of action or the particular direction of 
action should be predicated on greater knowledge. 
Research, too, in the ascertainment and record of 
facts useful and necessary to direct future action. 

Third, publication, either in aid of propagandist 
movements or of the results of research likely to be 
of general utility. 

Fourth, aid to the corporate or individual effort 
of others. 

Fifth, direct action by its own staff. 

In all these varying kinds of activity its degree 
of control has varied from absolute direction to en- 
trusting the entire direction to others, and its money 
contribution has varied from the whole to an insig- 
nificant part of the sums necessary to carry on 
undertakings. 

Among the propagandist movements to which 
the Foundation has contributed both direction and 
financial support are the following: 

Prevention of Tuberculosis 

At the time when the Foundation was organized, 
the educational side of this movement was being 



188 SOCIOLOGY 

successfully prosecuted in the city of New York 
under the leadership of the Committee on the Pre- 
vention of Tuberculosis of the New York Charity 
Organization Society. The National Association 
for the Prevention of Tuberculosis had been organ- 
ized, and was looking forward to the International 
Congress which was recently held in Washington. 
There had been no considerable educational move- 
ment in the state of New York. The Foundation 
provided the means whereby a very successful 
educational campaign has been instituted in 
New York state through the State Charities 
Aid Association, which, through its county or- 
ganization extending through the State, was able 
most effectively to reach the State at large. 
The result of this campaign has been that over a 
million dollars has been appropriated by municipali- 
ties, counties and individuals for tuberculosis hos- 
pitals, dispensaries, and other agencies. It has also 
helped the educational work of the Charity Organi- 
zation Society in Manhattan, and the same work of 
the Brooklyn Bureau of Charities in Brooklyn. The 
handbook of the national association, compiled by 
Philip P. Jacobs, and entitled '^The Campaign 
Against Tuberculosis in the United States," was 
printed as a Russell Sage Foundation publication. 
It has enabled the national association to accom- 
plish several other special pieces of work and to 
begin some educational work, which when once 
proved successful will be supported by individual 
contributions. The Foundation contributed to the 
International Congress at Washington. It also paid 
part of the expense of the recent tuberculosis ex- 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 189 

hibition in New York, which attracted the unparal- 
leled attendance of about 750,000 people within six 
weeks, and made it possible to bring the exhibition 
here by a guarantee at a time when immediate action 
was necessary and action depended upon assurance 
of adequate financial support. 

Playground Extension 

The Playground Association of America was 
formed about the time the Russell Sage Foundation 
was chartered. It contained among its officers and 
members great enthusiasm, but very small financial 
resources. One of the first things the Foundation 
did was to contribute the money necessary for a 
model playground and exhibit at the Jamestown 
Exposition. The great interest created by the first 
congress of the Playground Association, held in Chi- 
cago during the summer of 1907, made it manifest 
that important results could be accomplished 
throughout the country by the establishment and 
proper organization of playgrounds if an active 
propagandist movement to that end was instituted. 
The Russell Sage Foundation has contributed largely 
to this movement, and has secured for it the guidance 
of Luther H. Gulick, M. D., president of the Play- 
ground Association, and his assistant, Lee F. 
Hanmer. 

Since the Foundation took part in this movement, 
playgrounds have been established in about one hun- 
dred cities, and about 175 have been projected under 
either municipal or private management. An active 
campaign has been carried on throughout the coun- 



190 SOCIOLOGY 

try by correspondence, personal visits, addresses, 
and publications, stimulating interest in and knowl- 
edge of the play movement. 

Care of Children 

The Foundation has been carrying on investiga- 
tions into *^placing-out,'' and the management of 
institutions. The result has been very encouraging. 
Notable improvements in methods are reported in 
several states. The Foundation has recently se- 
cured the services of Hastings H. Hart as a member 
of its staff to oversee and direct its work for children. 

Children's School Gardens 

The Foundation gave the money necessary to 
establish and operate at the Jamestown Exposition 
a model children's school garden. It has aided in 
the education of teachers for such gardens, and it 
has assured the continuance of a model garden in 
the neighborhood of New York, to which the many 
who are seeking information and direction on this 
subject can be referred as a demonstration of what 
they can do in their own localities and how they can 
do it. 

Charity Organization Extension 

At the time when the Foundation was organized, 
a movement was in progress to promote the organi- 
zation of such societies in cities in which they did 
not already exist, and in which some form of chari- 
table organization was needed to unite the philan- 
thropic efforts of the community. This was under 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 191 

the direction of the Meld Department of Charities 
Publication Committee, of which department Miss 
Mary E. Richmond, of Philadelphia, is chairman. 
The Foundation has given this committee the means 
to secure the services of Francis H. McLean, for- 
merly connected with the Brooklyn Bureau of Chari- 
ties, and Miss Margaret F. Byington, formerly of 
the Boston Associated Charities. The secretaries 
have visited some fifty cities and towns, and report 
encouraging progress everywhere. One noteworthy 
accomplishment was the establishment of an Asso- 
ciated Charities in Pittsburg, and the bringing into 
concerted action a number of societies there which 
had been working on independent lines. 

Prevention of Blindness 

The Foundation has been supporting the work 
of a special committee of the New York Association 
for the Blind, directed particularly to the prevention 
of blindness in children. A recent pamphlet on this 
subject, entitled ''Children Who Need Not Have 
Been Blind," issued by the committee, has had wide 
circulation. 

Research 

Illustrative of research relating to lines of effort 
in which action may be expedient are the following: 

A careful study of workingmen's and other forms 
of small insurance, conducted at home and abroad 
by Lee K. Frankel, until recently general manager 
of the United Hebrew Charities. 

A study of the evils of the salary loan business 
and of the chattel loan business. 



193 SOCIOLOGY 

The desirability of establishing an employment 
bm-ean in the city of New York. This last investi- 
gation, conducted by Edward T. Devine, will un- 
questionably lead to the establishment of such a 
bureau on a business basis within a short time, and 
the Russell Sage Foundation stands ready to supply 
as much of the needed capital as may be necessary 
to supplement individual subscriptions. 

In cooperation with the school officials of New 
York city, Leonard P. Ayres, under the direction of 
L. H. Gulick, has been making a study of the causes 
of slow progress among school children. Valuable 
discoveries have been made. Dr. Ayres 's first report 
has been embodied in the annual report of the super- 
intendent of schools. The problem can now be at- 
tacked with new hope of progress for the backward 
child. 

Illustrative of research useful or necessary to 
record past experience for future use, is a careful 
study of and report on the methods used and results 
accomplished in relieving the recent earthquake suf- 
ferers in San Francisco. 

An important special line of research has been 
the so-called Pittsburgh Survey, under the personal 
direction of Paul U. Kellogg. When the Foundation 
was organized, a study of industrial conditions in 
Pittsburgh was being made by the staff of Charities, 
as the basis for a special magazine number. The op- 
portunity was seized to provide the means to extend 
this into a wider and deeper study of social and in- 
dustrial conditions in Pittsburgh as a typical Amer- 
ican industrial city, and to assemble the material 
into a series of reports somewhat analogous to 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 193 

Charles Booth's famous study of the city of London. 
Part of this material has already been published in 
Charities and The Commons. It will be embodied in 
several volumes now in course of preparation by the 
Foundation. As a direct result of the Pittsburgh 
Survey, a Civic Commission composed of fifteen lead- 
ing citizens of Pittsburgh, each chosen because of 
special qualifications, has been appointed by the 
mayor to work for the betterment of conditions in 
the city. The Survey will be the basis of the com- 
mission's work. Among other results have been the 
destruction of insanitary tenements and dwellings, 
the closing of some bad lodging houses, and addi- 
tions to the inspecting force of the health depart- 
ment. Pittsburgh has received this constructive 
criticism in a generous spirit. 

Schools for Social Workers 

The schools in Boston, New York, Chicago, and 
St. Louis have been given the means to establish de- 
partments for social investigation. This has in- 
creased their ability to train workers and investiga- 
tors and has produced some interesting studies. 

Publications 

The publications of the Foundation already num- 
ber eight, and are in the form of books and pam- 
phlets. They are standardized in form and typog- 
raphy. The titles of those already issued are as fol- 
lows: 

First Steps in Organizing Playgrounds, Lee F. 
Hanmer. 



194 , SOCIOLOGY 

The Meld Day and Play Picnic for Country Chil- 
dren, Myron T. Scudder. 

Campaign Against Tuberculosis in the United 
States, prepared by the National Association for 
the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis. 

Medical Inspection of Schools, Luther H. Gulick, 
M. D., and Leonard P. Ayres. 

The Salary Loan Business in New York City, 
Clarence W. Wassam. 

The Chattel Loan Business in New York City, 
Arthur H. Ham. 

Report on the Desirability of Establishing an 
Employment Bureau in the City of New York, Ed- 
ward T. Devine. 

The Standard of Living Among Workingmen's 
Families in New York City, Robert Coit Chapin. 

Housing 

The subject on which the Foundation is at the 
moment placing great emphasis is that of the hous- 
ing of the working classes. It is not proposing to 
duplicate the model tenement building of Phipps 
Houses, or the City and Suburban Homes Company, 
in Manhattan or Brooklyn, but it is giving serious 
attention to suburban housing. The recent purchase 
of some fifty acres of land near Jamaica, which has 
been credited in the public press to Mrs. Russell 
Sage, was a purchase by the Foundation. For more 
than a year past Grosvenor Atterbury, the well 
known architect, has been making for the Founda- 
tion studies for small houses, and experiments in 
cheap construction. 



A SOCIOLOGICAL INSTITUTION 195 

Other Activities 

Among the corporate or individual efforts to 
which the Russell Sage Foundation has contributed 
pecuniary aid are the following: 

The National Red Cross, to secure the appoint- 
ment of an efficient director. It was after this con- 
tribution that Ernest P. Bicknell was chosen to fill 
this new office. 

The Presidents' Home Commission of the city 
of Washington. 

The expenses of the recent Child Saving Con- 
gress in Washington were in large part defrayed 
by the Foundation. 

This statement of the initial activities of 
the Foundation is not inclusive or complete, nor is 
it intended to be. It is only illustrative. The 
Foundation has many lines of effort under consider- 
ation, and action in some is progressing. Publicity 
would embarrass some of these efforts. Knowledge 
that the Foundation was aiding financially might 
deter contributions from others toward the same 
purposes, and discourage desirable co-operation. 

An Adaptable Foundation 

The fundamental idea of the Foundation is to 
place in the hands of qualified trustees the income 
of a considerable fund, with power to use it in what- 
ever particular way they think best from time to 
time to improve social and living conditions. It 
is not confined, as have been so many foundations 
in the past, to a single form of social betterment. 
A foundation most needed and most beneficent a 
quarter of a century ago might now, with the shift 



196 SOCIOLOGY 

and change of social conditions, be comparatively 
useless. A foimdation most wisely adapted to 
present needs might find those needs better sup- 
plied from other sources in the course of the next 
generation and thus become unnecessary. 

Twenty-five years ago, improved tenements and 
playgrounds were among the greatest needs in New 
York, and could wisely have been made the purpose 
of any foundation. Today these tenements are 
being supplied largely by individual enterprise, and 
the city has taken up the establishment and main- 
tenance of playgrounds. Just so, great as are the 
present needs, let us say of tuberculosis sanatoriums, 
and the extension of industrial education, another 
quarter of a century may find them supplied, in one 
case by the extension of our State and city hospital 
system, and in the other by an extension of the 
public school system. 

The history of past foundations emphasizes this 
point of view. Many which were highly desirable 
when they were established have become useless 
and worse than useless. 

More controlling, however, in determining the 
scope of the Foundation is the thought that, with 
the constant change and shift of social conditions, 
and broadening, or it may be contraction, of the 
sphere of government activity, the future may de- 
velop other and greater needs for private philan- 
thropic action than any which are now apparent. 

For these reasons the Russell Sage Foundation 
was made sufficiently elastic in form and method to 
work in different ways at different times. 

— Robert W. de Forest. 



AN ILLUSTRATION OF SOCIOLOGICAL 

METHODS— CHARITY, RELIEF AND 

WAGE EARNINGS. 

This article is a study of the relief given by the 
Associated Charities in the city of Washington, 
D. C, in 1905. The investigation deals with the cases 
of several thousand persons who sought relief at the 
door of charity. The aim of the study is to deter- 
mine the relation which exists between the charity 
relief and the earnings of the recipients, and to dis- 
cover to what extent this distress was due to low 
wages or to a lack of employment, and to what 
extent other causes figured in the distress. 

The result of the study will be better understood 
if consideration is first given to the aims and meth- 
ods of the Associated Charities. Those aims and 
methods have been recently formulated as follows: 

1. To bring about the adequate treatment of 
each needy individual or family upon the basis of an 
adequate understanding of the needs and resources. 

2. To promote co-operation between all the 
philanthropic forces, the public and private chari- 
ties, the churches, municipal authorities, and benevo- 
lent individuals of the community, in order that the 
efficiency of all may be increased and each enabled 
to do its own best work in its own best way. 

197 



198 SOCIOLOGY 

3. To obtain and administer material aid where 
necessary, endeavoring to secure the assistance from 
appropriate organizations and individuals, and not 
to interfere with or unnecessarily decrease in any 
case the responsibility of agencies or persons from 
whom the relief should be derived. 

4. To enlist, organize, and direct volunteer 
workers, including division conference members, 
friendly visitors, savings collectors, conductors of 
outing parties, office assistants, and helpers in other 
lines. 

5. To prevent pauperism and dependence; to 
discourage begging and the giving of alms without 
adequate investigation; to expose deliberate impos- 
ture or fraud; not merely to palliate distress, but to 
relieve it permanently, and in every case to develop 
all the possibilities of self-help. 

6. To improve home life, develop character, and 
elevate the standards of life; to prevent children 
from growing up as paupers, and to aid needy fam- 
ilies in securing for ruptured and deformed children 
such treatment as will prevent permanent disabilities 
and dependence. 

7. To aid in the diffusion of knowledge as to con- 
ditions of life in neglected neighborhoods or among 
needy families, and as to the best methods of philan- 
thropic work. To suggest, stimulate, inaugurate, or 
undertake such efforts for remedial, preventive, or 
constructive social service as shall from time to time 
seem wise. 

8. To maintain a careful, thorough system of 
confidential records so that all the essential knowl- 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 199 

edge obtained regarding needy families may be im- 
mediately available, in confidence, for the guidance 
of persons having a legitimate charitable interest. 

9. To exclude from every department of its work 
all questions as to sectarian religious belief, politics, 
or nationality, and to allow no representative of the 
association to use his or her position for the purpose 
of proselytism. 

From the foregoing official statement it will be 
seen that an office of the Associated Charities is not 
primarily a relief station. It is rather a clearing 
house, where various charitable influences are so co- 
ordinated and directed that overlapping, waste, and 
fraud are either wholly prevented or reduced to a 
minimum. Relief of some kind is given to almost 
every family that applies to the Associated Chari- 
ties, but it is not always material relief — ^such as 
money, food, or clothing. The chief object of the 
association is to enable the applicant to help him- 
self. ^' Every case is studied carefully, unnecessary 
relief is refused, employment is secured, the good 
influence of relatives, employers, and other natural 
helpers is enlisted, and every possibility of self-help 
is as far as possible discovered and emphasized." 
Such a policy reduces the giving of material aid to 
the lowest point. Of the 4,377 families dealt with 
in the charity year ending June 30, 1906, only 1,050 
were given material aid. After such a sifting proc- 
ess, a family is not likely to receive material aid 
unless there is actual distress. 

A phase of the society's work that is of great 
Interest is its system of gathering and recording all 



200 SOCIOLOGY 

pertinent facts relating to the family applying for 
aid. This inquiry begins when application for as- 
sistance is made. The investigation is informal and 
unobtrusive, but thorough and painstaking. Infor- 
mation about the family is sought from the most 
direct sources. Letters of applicants and the repre- 
sentations of proxies may set in motion an investiga- 
tion, but they will not suf&ce to place the family upon 
the roll of recipients. A personal inspection of home 
conditions by the charity agent must be made before 
the merits or demerits of an application are passed 
upon. In cases of emergency, or when the work of 
the office is heavy, this rule is not always strictly fol- 
lowed. At such times the giving of aid may precede 
the investigation; but the general policy and the 
habitual practice of the society is to furnish aid only 
in the light of the fullest knowledge possible. 

The investigation into the merits of an applica- 
tion usually begins in the charity office. When a 
request is made that aid be given to a family, if the 
person asking for aid is not a member of the family, 
or is a child, the agent probably will not entertain 
the request at all, but will demand that a responsible 
member of the family come to the office. If the wife 
or husband or grown child comes and makes known 
the needs of the family, the agent in a conversational 
way draws from the applicant everything about the 
family that may have a bearing upon the subject in 
hand. Inquiry is made as to the size of the family, 
the ages of the children, the conjugal conditions that 
prevail, the occupations of the members of the family, 
the wages received, the names of employers and 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 201 

friends, and church affiliations. Having noted these 
and other relevant facts, the agent, withholding aid 
for the time being, promises to visit the home of the 
applicant at the earliest possible moment. Only in 
rare instances does the first interview result in the 
immediate giving of doles. As soon as it can be ar- 
ranged, the agent goes to the home of the applicant, 
where the inquiry is continued far beyond the point 
to which it was carried at the office and until suffi- 
cient information is obtained regarding the family 
to make it possible to deal with the case intelligently. 

The facts brought out by the investigation are 
arranged in order, typewritten, and placed in a 
large envelop, which becomes the receptacle for the 
charity record of the family and for all documents 
bearing upon that record. In this envelope are found 
letters applying for aid, letters expressing thanks 
for aid received, letters from friends and relatives 
of the family, letter of reconunendation, corres- 
pondence of charity officials, newspaper clippings 
containing information about the family, ejectment 
notices, evidences of chattel-mortgage transactions, 
and notes of promise. Every item throwing light 
upon the charity side of the family's history is care- 
fully preserved. In the majority of cases the record 
is brief and the contents of the envelope are small, 
but in many cases where the charity record extends 
over many years the contents of the envelope, if 
printed, would make a good-sized volume. 

The conclusions of this article are based upon a 
study of 19,000 envelopes found in the eight charity 
offices of the city of Washington, Every envelope 



202 SOCIOLOGY 

containing a record of material relief, such as money, 
food, clothing, or shelter given in 1905 has been ex- 
amined. The work has been conducted in the charity 
offices, and in numerous cases when there was per- 
plexity or doubt the writer has been assisted by the 
charity agents. 

Number, Nativity, and Size of the Families 

In dealing with charity cases the efforts of the 
organization are directed toward the family regarded 
as a social unit. Likewise in studying these charity 
cases the family has been regarded as a imit, but 
strictly as an economic rather than as a domestic unit. 
A man living alone in a shanty or in a single room has 
been regarded as constituting a family of one, even 
though he has children living. Where a husband is 
serving a term in jail and the wife is left to take care 
of herself and several children, the family is regard- 
ed as consisting of the wife and children, and the 
husband is not included in the enumeration. In deal- 
ing with the subjects of delinquencies and of causes, 
however, it has often been found necessary to look 
outside the economic group. 

Of the 1,256 families for which the records showed 
that material relief was given in 1905, 73 have not 
been considered in this article. In a number of cases 
it was impossible to determine the composition of 
the family in 1905. In such cases the record ex- 
tended over a number of years, but the changes that 
came with the years were not fully recorded. In 
other cases, because of a rush of applications, aid was 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 203 

given without any investigation at all. In a few in- 
stances the records were too meager to serve the pur- 
poses of this study. There remained for considera- 
tion the charity records of 1,183 families, 452 of 
these being white families and 731 colored. 

Nearly all who were assisted were Americans. 
Only 40 families, or 3.4 percent of the total, were of 
wholly foreign extraction. This element is so small 
as to be without special significance, yet it is notice- 
able that whereas the foreign population of the city 
is about 7 per cent of the total population foreign 
charity recipients constitute a percentage only about 
half as great. When the number of white families is 
compared with the number of Negro families it is 
found that the former comprise 38.2 per cent and the 
latter 61.8 per cent of all the families receiving aid. 
In 1900 the white population of the District was 68.7 
per cent and the Negro population was 31.1 per cent 
of the whole population. 

The number of persons in the 1,183 families re- 
ceiving material aid from the Associated Charities in 
1905 was 4,365. Of these, 1,860 were white persons 
and 2,505 were colored persons. If the 73 families 
which were eliminated on account of imperfect rec- 
ords had been included the total number of persons 
would have approximated 5,000. The number re- 
ceiving material aid, however, by no means fully 
measures the work of the organization in Washing- 
ton. In addition there are thousands who are as- 
sisted by the organization but who do not actually 
receive money, food, or clothing. A very large num- 
ber of applicants desire free medical treatment, and 



204: SOCIOLOGY 

this they receive at the public dispensaries upon the 
recommendation of the charity agents. A great 
many seek employment and the charity agents find 
work for them. Some, who seek material aid are 
shown a way by which they may help themselves and 
thus avoid being enrolled as objects of charity. It 
is probable, taking the official reports of the associa- 
tion as a guide in making an estimate, that 15,000 
persons per annum are affected in one way or an- 
other by the work of this organization. 

The 4,365 recipients of material aid, it should be 
clearly understood, are for the most part the float- 
ing, unattached poor. In a very true sense they are 
the derelicts of society. The ties that morally bind 
the individual to society have been in a large degree 
severed. They rarely belong to a union or to a lodge ; 
they have no friends or relatives to whom they can 
turn for help; they have no church connections. In- 
dustrially and socially they are without moorings, 
and when the hour of distress overtakes them they 
drift to the charity office, because they have nowhere 
else to go. 

The isolation of this class of charity recipients is 
brought out when the subject of the membership of 
the wage-earners in labor organizations and in fra- 
ternal and beneficial associations is considered. The 
records are not entirely satisfactory, though efforts 
are made to secure as much information as possible 
about the lodges and societies to which the applicants 
belong. In nineteen cases out of twenty there is 
nothing to learn. Of 1,175 wage-earners, only 81 
made any statement as to whether they belonged to 
labor organizations, and of these only 23 stated that 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 205 

they were members of such organizations. In only 
40 families was there evidence of membership in fra- 
ternal or beneficial societies. The reason for not be- 
longing to labor organizations and the result of non- 
membership appear frequently in notes and com- 
ments of the agent like the following: 

"He (the wage-earner) does not belong to the 
union, and for that reason finds it difficult to get 
work." 

"The husband said he thought X could get him 
work to do if he (X) cared to do so, but the husband 
does not belong to the union and X does. ' ' (Here X 
was the father-in-law of the applicant.) 

"Man (a carpenter) had gone to a job of work; 
but when the other workmen found he was a non- 
union man, they objected. Man made inquiry about 
union, and found that he would have to pay $10 to 
join. This he could not do." 
The Average Size of the Families Receiving Relief 
is 3.7 persons for each family. In 1900 the average 
size of the family in the District of Columbia was 4.9 
persons. The charity family is therefore consider- 
ably smaller than the normal family. The lower aver- 
age of the charity family is due to the fact that 
among the very poor there is an unusually large 
number of families consisting of but one or two per- 
sons. The father or the mother, or both father and 
mother, either childless or forsaken by their children, 
live alone until old age comes on and the earnings 
become so scant that recourse must be made to char- 
ity. Statistics show that nearly 40 per cent of the 
families receiving aid were families of one or two 
persons. In the District of Columbia in 1900 not 



206 SOCIOLOGY 

quite 20 per cent of the whole number of families be- 
longed to this class. If the families consisting of 
one and of two persons are excluded, the average 
number of persons in the charity family is increased 
to 5, which is about normal. The figures bearing 
upon the size of the family, therefore, contain noth- 
ing of great significance. The poverty-stricken fam- 
ily, on the average, is about the same size as the 
prosperous family. 

Age and Conjugal Conditions 

An analysis of the age periods brings out the fact 
that there is a much larger percentage of children 
under the age of 16 in the charity population than 
there is in the population at large. In 1900, 26.6 per 
cent of the entire population of the District of Co- 
lumbia was under the age of 16, while in the charity 
population studied 47.7 per cent was under the age 
of 16. Analysis further shows that the percentage 
of children under 10 years of age was 30.9 per cent 
in the charity families, while the percentage of chil- 
dren under 10 in the entire District was only 16.8 
per cent of the total population. Young children, 
therefore, are relatively very numerous among char- 
ity dependents in the District of Columbia, a fact of 
considerable significance. In families where there 
are many small children, much of the time and energy 
that might be given to breadwinning is of necessity 
given to the care of children. In some of the fami- 
lies a care taker — usually an old woman who could 
do nothing else — ^was provided for the children, and 
all the older persons were thus permitted to go out 
and earn something. 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 207 

Not only do chilren under 10 years of age pre- 
dominate in these families, but the female children 
are proportionally more numerous than they are in 
the average family. In 1900 in the District of 
Columbia the number of males under 16 years of 
age was 36,517, and the number of females 37,683, 
the excess of females over males being 3.2 per cent. 
A comparison of figures shows that the females 
under 16 years of age are in excess of the males by 
18.3 per cent. If comparison is made only for the 
children of 10 or under 16 years it is found that in 
the District the excess of females over males is 8.1 
per cent, whereas in the charity population the ex- 
cess is 21.8 per cent. In whatever way they are con- 
sidered, the figures point to a large proportion of 
girls in the charity families. In so far, then, as the 
boy is a better wage-earner than the girl, so far this 
excess of female children must be regarded as a 
handicap in the struggle for subsistence. Not the 
actual nimaber of children in these families, but the 
sex of the children, is significant. 

In respect to the conjugal conditions prevailing 
among these charity recipients, the table gives in- 
formation regarding separation (desertion), widow- 
hood, and divorce. In the 1,183 families there were 
144 deserted persons. In 137 of these cases the wife 
was reported as having been deserted, and in 7 cases 
the husband was deserted. If only those cases are 
considered in which abandonment was possible, that 
is, those in which both husband and wife were living, 
this matter of desertion may be brought out more 
plainly. There were in all 736 families in which 
both husband and wife were living, and in these, as 



808 SOCIOLOGY 

above stated, there were 144 cases of desertion, or 
19.6 per cent. Among the Negroes, desertion was 
much more frequent than among the whites. In the 
322 white families which had both husband and wife 
living there were 42 cases of desertion, or 13.0 per 
cent; in the 414 Negro families of this class there 
were 102 cases of desertion, or 24.4 per cent. 

The number of families in which either the hus- 
band or the wife was dead is also strikingly large, 
nearly 30 per cent of all the families belonging to 
this class. Of the 452 white families receiving aid, 
6 had widowers and 89 had widows at the head. Of 
the 731 colored families, 24 had widowers and 218 
had widows at the head. In these families there were 
923 persons, 256 whites and 667 colored. 

The figures show that the charity family is very 
often the fatherless family. There were 307 families 
in which the husband was dead. Including with 
these the 137 families that were abandoned by the 
husband, it is found that 444 families, or 37.5 per 
cent of the total, were without male supporters at 
their head. 

Divorce among the charity families played prac- 
tically no part at all, there being only 6 divorced 
people among 4,365. This paucity of divorce cases 
is easily explained. The very poor can not afford 
divorcement. Separation is the cheap substitute for 
divorce. 

Occupations 

A study of the occupations of the charity re- 
cipients shows that they are by no means an idle or 
nonwage-earning class. Of the 2,186 persons re- 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 209 

ported as being 16 years of age or over, 1,687, or 
77.2 per cent, were engaged in some kind of gainful 
occupation. Of those over 16 who had no gainful 
occupation, the greater part consisted of old people 
and of women who as wives spent their time in 
housework. The number of families in which both 
husband and wife were gainfully employed was very 
large. Of the 271 white families in which there were 
both a husband and a wife living at home, there were 
95 in which both the husband and wife were gain- 
fully employed; while of the 291 colored families 
having both husband and wife living at home, there 
were 222 in which both husband and the wife were 
gainfully employed. In respect to the employment 
of married women, the broad facts of the charity 
world resemble the broad facts of the world at large. 
The white married woman does not expect to work 
as a wage-earner, while marriage has little effect in 
reducing the number of Negro women at work. Ex- 
treme poverty, however, drives many white married 
women into the ranks of wage-earners, for the per- 
centage of white wives with occupations in the char- 
ity families is much greater than the percentage of 
white married women gainfully employed in the 
District at large. 

Among the children of the charity recipients 88, 
or 12 per cent, of those 10 or under 16 years of age 
were gainfully employed. In 1900, of 27,319 children 
in the District of Columbia from 10 to 15 years of 
age, 2,144, or 7.8 per cent, were reported as engaged 
in gainful occupations. Thus child labor among the 
charity recipients is seen to be a considerably 
greater factor than it is among the people at large. 



210 



SOCIOLOGY 



But the statements of the charity records bearing on 
this topic do not tell the whole story. They show 
merely the nmnber of children who were employed 
for a definite wage, whereas hundreds of children 
in the families receiving charity helped their 
mothers to do the washing and ironing which was so 
often the chief source of income; these have not been 
included in the enumeration here given, yet plainly 
they were engaged in gainful occupations. 

The occupations of the chief wage-earners and of 
other wage-earners in the families receiving charity 
relief, and the number of persons engaged in each 
occupation, are shown in the two tables which 
follow: 



MALES. 
Art critic 




1 
2 




1 

2 












1 

2 

"2 
2 

27 

3 

2 
2 
5 

"5 
2 

5 

6 

1 
2 
1 

"i 

8 
1 

1 
14 
1 
6 
1 
10 


"i 

"i 
"i 

"i 

"*i 

"i 
1 




















1 


... 




1 






1 


2 




3 




1 

1 


2 


1 


4 
1 


Blacksmiths 




1 
1 

"i 

5 
2 

26 




1 
2 
1 
2 
5 
2 
26 




1 
1 
1 


























2 




2 












1 
1 


... 

... 

1 


1 
1 

1 
























1 




1 












1 
2 




1 

2 


"6 






1 
2 
1 
5 

"i 

2 

1 
3 

1 


"i 


1 
9 
1 
5 
2 
1 
2 
1 
3 
2 




Clerks 


6 






1 




1 








2 










2 
3 




3 


4 




7 
























1 


1 
5 
1 
1 


... 


2 
5 
1 
1 


1 
1 




1 








1 
1 

"i 


'. '. '. 


1 
1 
1 

1 








Government employee 


1 










1 
















8 


1 


9 








1 




1 








1 


1 

2 




2 
2 


1 






12 

1 

6 
"3 


"i 


12 
2 

7 
2 
4 








1 
2 










1 
4 




2 

... 


1 

7 


1 

... 


4 

7 


Jobbers 



1 

2 
1 
3 
4 
2 
2 
1 
2 
7 
2 

27 
1 
1 
1 
1 
3 
9 
2 
5 
2 
8 
2 
1 
5 
7 
1 
2 
1 
1 
1 
9 
1 
2 

14 
2 
7 
6 

11 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 



211 



Junk Dealers 












6 
183 


"7 


6 
206 


'29 


6 

266 

2 

1 
1 
2 

1 
1 

"2 
1 

'23 
4 
2 
1 
10 
4 
2 

' '2 
1 

"i 

"5 
1 

1 
2 


"s 

"i 
"i 

1 
1 

2 

"i 

8 
30 

"i 

"i 
1 

6 
"6 

"i 

"e 

22 

52 


6 




13 


83 
2 

1 
1 

2 

1 


1 


97 

2 
1 
1 
2 
1 


16 


303 




2 
















1 


Mechanic 














1 


Merchants 














2 


Metal worker 














1 


Missionary 






1 




1 


"5 


1 




5 






5 




5 






2 




2 


2 


Newspaper work 




1 

'23 
3 

1 
1 
5 
4 


"i 
"i 


1 
1 

25 
3 

1 
2 
5 
4 




1 




1 

1 










1 
1 


1 












25 


Paper hangers 




1 

1 




1 
1 


4 


Peddlers 




2 


Physicians 




2 








5 




5 




10 






4 


Bag pickers 






2 




2 


"i 


2 


Railroad employee 


1 


"2 

1 




1 

2 

1 
1 




1 













Salesman 














1 




1 










1 
"i 


1 


Scullion 




1 
"3 




1 
1 
3 


1 


Sexton 










1 


1 


Shoemakers 




2 

1 




2 

1 


5 


Steam fitter 




1 








1 




1 




1 






2 


1 
1 

"i 
4 

13 


2 

1 

1 

2 

11 

5 

1 

1 
1 
8 
6 
303 




2 




1 










1 


1 


MALES — concluded. 










1 






1 
7 
5 
1 
1 
1 
3 
1 
241 












1 

25 
5 
1 

1 
7 
3 
2 
513 

1 

1 

"3 
1 

1 

190 

1 

"i 

1 

149 

"io 

44 


2 


Teamsters 


4 


9 


18 


2 


29 


13 


40 


Tinsmiths 


5 


Traveling salesman 














1 












1 


Waiters 




2 


6 


... 


8 


2 
4 

1 
87 


9 




4 

1 

49 


8 


Occupation not reported .... 


... 
38 


1 
272 

1 


4 
17 


5 
327 

1 


11 

630 


FEMALES. 


1 






1 




1 
1 




1 




1 










1 

■'6 
1 

'i5 


1 








1 


1 
1 


1 




5 

1 


3 
1 


"i 

1 

"i 

"i 

4 

17 


8 
3 
1 

38 
1 
1 
1 
1 

16 
1 
5 

37 

1 

2 

1 

139 

422 

30 
452 


1 




9 


Clerks 


3 




"ii 


1 
156 


'*6 


1 
173 


2 




4 


34 
1 

" 'i 

1 

15 

"5 
33 


211 




1 


Factory operators 


1 








1 


2 


2 


Polder printing office 


1 
















1 




1 
1 


13 


134 


6 


153 


14 
1 

'"4 


169 


Milliner 


1 






5 
11 




5 
11 


10 


Seamstresses 


4 


48 




1 


Waitresses 


1 


1 










1 

"4.5 
132 


1 

2 
406 
919 


?, 




'26 
64 


2 
310 

582 


5 
18 
35 


7 
354 
681 

50 
781 


8 


Total females 

Total, both sexes 

Families for which no chief 


19 
68 


96 
337 


473 
1103 

80 




. . . 1 




1 












118R 


1 








1 

















212 SOCIOLOGY 

The occupations represent almost every ordinary 
vocation. In the same list with laborers and 
domestics are art critics, musicians, physicians, 
missionaries, newspaper men, and clergymen. A 
couple, who in their younger days had kept at their 
own expense what was known as a ^'Tramps' Rest," 
where penniless wayfarers might receive food, rai- 
ment, and shelter, were in their old age compelled 
t6 become the objects of charity. 

Although the list of occupations is long, the dis- 
tress was confined to a very few classes of people. 
The occupations of more than 60 per cent of the 
chief wage-earners were those of laborers, laun- 
dresses, and domestics, while among others than 
chief wage-earners these three classes formed 64 per 
cent of the whole. This was a result to be expected, 
for Washington on its industrial side is above all 
places a city of laborers, laundresses, and domestics. 
While this is true, the table shows a number of char- 
ity recipients from the organized and well-paid 
trades. Twenty-seven carpenters, 25 painters, 10 
plasterers, 9 clerks, 7 ironworkers, 5 shoemakers, 
and 4 plumbers were chief wage-earners in families 
that were driven to charity. 

Earnings of Charity Recipients 

The subject of the earnings of charity recipients 
is one of the most important connected with the sub- 
ject of poverty, and at the same time one of the most 
difficult to treat satisfactorily. When a family ap- 
plies for aid, the earnings are inquired into at the 
outset. The inquiry as to the amount and source of 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 313 

income is painstaking and thorough, for aid must be 
given or withheld on the basis of the family income; 
yet the facts obtained by the inquiry are in most 
cases such as can not be conveniently tabulated. The 
period of charity seeking is a period when earnings 
are either irregular or abnormally low or when there 
are no earnings at all. 

The most significant item is the one showing the 
number of families in which the chief wage-earner, 
at the time of application, was earning nothing. In 
more than two-thirds of the .families the wages of 
the chief wage-earner had entirely ceased. If the 
80 families in which there was no chief wage-earner 
at all are included, the proportion of families de- 
prived of a regular bread-winner at the time of ap- 
plication was three-fourths of the whole number of 
families relieved. In the majority of cases, distress 
was contemporaneous with the cessation of the 
earnings of the chief breadwinner, a fact which in- 
dicates prima facie, at least, that the poverty of these 
poor is not chiefly a moral problem, but is chiefly an 
economic or financial problem. 

In 206 of the families there was evidence of a 
normal income additional to that derived from the 
labor of wage-earners. In many cases the reports 
told of assistance given by neighbors; in other cases 
the family could rely upon regular donations from a 
church; occasionally an absent child or a near rela^ 
tive would regularly pay the rent. Upon the whole, 
however, assistance by relatives and kinsmen was 
rare — ^not so frequent perhaps as assistance by 
friends. In 43 families a monthly pension supple- 
mented the regular earnings. These pensions 



214 SOCIOLOGY 

ranged from $8 to $12 a month, and were in a few 
cases practically the sole income of the recipient. 
With the exception of the pensions, the element of 
additional income constituted but an insignificant 
factor in the finances of the families. In a great 
majority of cases when the regular earnings of mem- 
bers of the family were cut off, practically every- 
thing was gone. 

Lack of food was the most potent factor in driv- 
ing people to seek charity. In 60 per cent of all the 
cases tabulated food, constituted either the whole or 
a part of the donation. Next to food, fuel is most 
frequently sought by charity applicants. In nearly 
half the cases of relief given in 1905, fuel was one of 
the articles first given. Frequently recourse is made 
to charity because the usual supply of fuel is cut 
off by severe weather. Many very poor families are 
accustomed to get their fuel in a haphazard way, 
picking coal and cinders from public dumps and 
private ash heaps, and gathering stray pieces of wood 
here and there. The charity records bring out this 
fact. In 40 families it was the custom to gather 
fuel wherever it could be secured for nothing, and 
in a number of cases distress was due to the fact 
that cinders could not be picked from the dump 
because of the ice and snow. 

After food and fuel, clothing is most frequently 
given. A word of explanation about the frequent 
giving of clothing is necessary. In a great many 
instances the clothing consisted of shoes given to 
children in order that bare feet might not prevent 
attendance at school. Cases happen where a family 
that can afford most things can not buy shoes for 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 315 

the children, and without shoes the children can 
not attend school. In such a case the charity or- 
ganization conies to the relief of the family and 
gives the necessary shoes, even though there be no 
acute distress. This policy, with respect to the 
giving of shoes to enable children to attend school, 
materially increases the number of times clothing is 
given, and adds to the charity roll quite a number of 
families who ordinarily would not belong there. 

The number of times rent appears in the table by 
no means measures the distress that is connected 
with the arrears of rent. Next to the food problem 
the rent problem is unquestionably the one that 
presses most heavily upon the poor. The charity 
reports give many instances of arrears of rent. 
Notices of ejectment, costing the tenant $1.85 for 
service, are constantly appearing. Sometimes a let- 
ter from the landlord appears, as follows: "You 
have six days from the 25th of this month, which 
was last Tuesday, the day that judgment was ren- 
dered against you, to vacate the room you occupy. 
The constable will be there when the six days are 
out, if you are not by that time removed." The 
records show that the constable knows how to fulfill 
his duty. The following are from the charity agents' 
reports : 

"Yesterday woman and her children were set out 
of doors. All slept on the porch last night." 
"Put out on street on a rainy day." 
"Put out on street in spite of agent's protest." 
"The rent not having been paid, the family were 
set out in the midst of a heavy snowstorm." 
The records, however, do not always show the 



316 SOCIOLOGY 

landlord to be cruel and hard-hearted. "I have 
given," says a landlord in a letter to the agent, 
*' notice to Mrs. X to move. I wish it could be ac- 
complished in such a way as to avoid the publicity 
which might hiuder her from getting another 
house." In this note can be seen the real natiu'e of 
the hardship of being turned out of doors for non- 
p-ayment of rent. Ejectment not only puts a family 
out on the street, but it also at the same time closes 
all doors against the family. No landlord wants a 
freshly ejected tenant. The poor know this, and 
make every effort to avoid ejectment. In the 
archives of poverty nothing is sadder than the 
accounts of the efforts that are made to meet the 
rent. 

^'Said that she had to pay her last cent to-day 
on her rent, and was now out of food and fuel, and 
would have to wait until she has another week^s 
work before she could buy food and fuel." 

^*Sold feather bed and pillows for enough to pay 
the rent." 

^'Said she was going to pawn her skirt to pay 
for rent." 

**They have just gotten enough money for rent, 
and if they could keep that without paying anything 
for groceries they woiild be able to pay up rent on 
the following day." 

In the above excerpts can be discerned the policy 
of the poor in respect of rent; they will pay the rent 
money, even if it takes every cent they have to do so, 
and they afterwards have to go to charity for food 
or for fuel. The serious results of ejectment cause 
them to do this. This policy goes far in explaining 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 317 

why so few cases of assistance in rent appear in the 
table. There is another reason why the table does 
not show a larger number of rent cases : The char- 
ity organization does not make it a practice to pay 
the rent of applicants. Only in extreme cases will 
it undertake to furnish relief of this kind. An old 
woman on her deathbed had an ejectment notice 
served on her. There was nothing to do but pay the 
rent. In such cases the charity organization will 
meet the arrears, but in ordinary cases it does not 
undertake to do this. 

Of the 1,183 families, 208 at some time and to 
some extent found arrears for rent associated with 
their appeal to charity. Nearly a third of the fam- 
ilies thus distressed were fatherless; that is, they 
had as heads either widows or wives whose husbands 
had abandoned them. 

Arrears of rent is the most frequent form of debt 
among those stricken by poverty, but there are 
other forms that are accompanied by acute distress. 
One kind of debt frequently met with is the unpaid 
grocery bill. This is sometimes quite as pressing as 
an unpaid rent bill. Another form of debt that 
presses sorely upon these families is the chattel- 
mortgage loan. This is a debt that constantly 
threatens to take the furniture out of the house. 
The charity organization helps the poor in many 
ways with their chattel-mortgage troubles, but they 
seldom pay the debt outright. In the table can 
be seen the extent to which the chattel mort- 
gage entered into the poverty of these poor. In 
26 families the exactions of the loan company 
were felt. The rates of interest were those usually 



218 SOCIOLOGY 

charged in similar transactions. In one case 
there was a loan of $25 to be paid in 18 fort- 
nightly payments of $2.50— $20 for the use of $25 
for nine months. In another case a widow was be- 
hind two months in the payment of a loan. She 
had all the money except $1, but the company, which 
had sent a notice of foreclosure threatening seizure 
the following day, demanded payment in full. 
Every cent of the debt had to be paid or the furniture 
would be taken. In this case the charity agent gave 
the needed dollar. The widow paid $4.40 for the use 
of $10 for four months. 

Delinquencies of Charity Recipients 

Statistics as to the moral conditions which pre- 
vailed in these families, and the extent to which vice 
and crime were associated with the poverty of these 
charity recipients, are shown in a carefully prepared 
table. 

In almost exactly two-thirds of the families there 
was no palpable delinquency whatever. This is to 
say, that a fairly decent standard of morals prevailed 
in a very large majority of the families. In almost 
exactly one-third of the families there was a marked 
delinquency of some kind. Of the 394 families 
tainted by delinquency, 174 were white and 220 
colored, these numbers representing 38 per cent of 
the total white families and 30 per cent of the total 
colored families, respectively. 

In charging delinquency against a family, its 
whole charity record was taken into consideration; 
and in locating a fault, it was sometimes necessary 
to go outside the economic group. In some cases it 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 219 

was exceedingly difficult to say whether there was 
delinquency or not. It was difficult to determine, 
for instance, in a case where the chief wage-earner 
— a widow — was arrested and incarcerated for steal- 
ing bread for her children, whether there was 
delinquency. Because it was lawlessness, it was de- 
cided that the woman was a delinquent. A man at 
the age of 59 married a young woman of 28. After 
the birth of several children there was a separation. 
Then the husband returned, another child was born, 
and there was another separation. This alternation 
of desertion and home-staying continued until the 
time of the investigation, when the husband, then 
at the age of 72, was a deserter and when there were 
seven children in the family. The husband was not 
charged with moral delinquency on account of the 
desertion, for the reason that at no time had the 
man been able to contribute much to the family sup- 
port. In another very interesting case a man and 
a woman, who had never been legally joined in 
marriage, were living together and raising a family 
of children. There seemed to be perfect loyalty, and 
the adulterous relation seemed to have no kind of 
effect upon the affairs of the household. Econom- 
ically it was the same as if there had been a marriage 
certificate. The family was stamped, of course, with 
licentiousness, but the action of the couple contrasts 
favorably with the many cases where women with 
illegitimate children were abandoned. The facts 
bearing upon delinquency, besides being difficult to 
interpret, are also sometimes exceedingly difficult 
to ascertain. In one case, after a certain family had 
been scheduled as being without delinquency, the 



220 SOCIOLOGY 

information was unearthed that the husband was a 
drunkard and for several years had been going on 
long sprees. During these years the charity agent 
had been patiently trying to learn the cause of the 
trouble, but her inquiries had been skillfully eluded. 

The leading delinquencies are intemperance, de- 
sertion, licentiousness, neglect by natural sup- 
porters, lawlessness, thievery, and mendicancy. 
First among the delinquencies stands intemperance. 
In 128 families, more than 10 per cent of the whole 
number receiving charity, and nearly one-third of 
all those in which delinquency was visible, intem- 
perance was present. In the families afflicted by 
intemperance, the husband was the delinquent in 
114 cases. In not one family in a hundred is a 
drunken woman found. In 96 cases the intemper- 
ance was in white families, and in 32 cases it was in 
colored families. 

Next to intemperance stands the vice of deser- 
tion. In 144 cases there was wanton abandonment 
of the family, and in 137 of these cases the o:ffender 
was the husband. In 102 cases the desertion 
occurred in colored families, and in 42 cases in white 
families. 

After intemperance and wanton abandonment, 
the evil most apparent was licentiousness. Evidence 
of this delinquency was in many cases, of course, 
largely a matter of inference. Sometimes when the 
evidence was direct and clear, it was still hard to 
brand the family with moral turpitude, as in the case 
of an old colored woman of 70 years who had never 
been married and who yet was the mother of chil- 
dren. Her error, however, was of another age and 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 221 

was committed in slavery times. The circumstances 
that most frequently supported the charge of 
licentiousness was the presence of illegitimate 
children. Of these there was an unusually large 
number — 11 illegitimate white children and 68 
illegitimate colored children. Of the 64 cases in 
which licentiousness is the principal charge, women 
were the offenders in 61 cases. This disproportion 
between the sexes is due to the fact that the male 
offender was most frequently an outsider who could 
not be included in the enumeration. In 17 cases this 
vice was found in white families, and in 47 cases in 
colored families. 

Of the 43 cases of neglect by natural supporters, 
more than a third were chargeable to husbands, and 
were therefore similar to cases of desertion. This 
neglect very often consisted in staying away from 
home several days and nights at a time, and spend- 
ing whatever cash might be on hand. Sometimes the 
neglect took the form of intermittent desertion; the 
husband would go and come, supporting the family 
when at home, and leaving it to shift for itself when 
away. Next to husbands, the greatest offenders in 
the way of neglect were grown sons. In 11 cases, 
sons who were able to help their parents ungrate- 
fully withheld the sorely needed aid. 

Mendicancy can not figure largely among delin- 
quencies of charity recipients, for the reason that 
the charity organization withholds aid from mendi- 
cants. This evil, however, is one that the charity 
people have to deal with constantly; and now and 
then, as the table shows, a family in which there are 
beggars succeeds in securing doles. This is not sur- 



283 SOCIOLOGY 

prising when the methods to which mendicants 
resort are considered. One family succeeded in ex- 
ploiting fifteen different churches and organizations, 
the charity organization among the number. There 
were eight in the family, five being over 15 years 
of age, but nobody worked, not even the male head 
of the family. Another instance was that of an 
oily-tongued person who posed as a preacher, and 
who received aid for several years before he was 
discovered to be a beggar and a fraud. In another 
case a mendicant family was holding membership in 
three different churches, and passing imder a differ- 
ent name in each church. The ruse was not discov- 
ered until the charity organization had been for 
some time a victim of the deception. 

But more troublesome than mendicancy itself is 
a certain reliance upon charity, a certain inclination 
to pauperism, which crops out in many charity re- 
cipients. Such a spirit of dependence was visible in 
69 families, 40 of which were white and 29 colored. 
The reliance upon charity here referred to did not 
quite assume the form of a positive delinquency. 
The dependence sometimes took on the aspect of 
faith, as in the case of an old man who, when asked 
why he did not go to the poorhouse, said that he 
relied on God to take care of him and keep him out 
of the poorhouse. When applying for charity, it 
seemed to him that he was only falling in with a 
divine scheme. In some cases it is plain that the 
feeling of reliance is due to the unwise action of 
friends or of churches. "I fear the family has 
been too much petted by the church people" is the 
impression of one agent in respect to a family that 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 223 

was accustomed to haunt the charity office. Quite 
often the person put down as relying upon charity 
was an old colored woman who was used to getting 
help here and there from white people and who re- 
garded the charity agent simply as one of her '* white 
folks/' A remarkable case of dependence was that 
of a woman who relied on an ex-slave to support 
her. The faithful domestic worked only to keep her 
former mistress from want; and when the earnings 
were too scant for this, it was the ex-slave and not 
the mistress that visited the charity office. 

Farther removed from delinquency than reliance 
on charity, is a certain perversity of pride w^hich 
figures in these cases with sufficient frequency to 
warrant mention here. In at least a dozen cases 
the applicants went to the charity office because they 
were too stubborn or too proud to appeal to natural 
supporters who were able and willing to help them. 
**A rich brother would give aid," is the agent's note 
in one case, *'but because she thinks he would give 
grudgingly she would rather take charity." In 
another case a woman applicant had relatives who 
would have helped her gladly. The agent wrote to 
the applicant suggesting that she appeal to her rela- 
tives for aid. The applicant refused, saying in the 
letter of reply: *'It is very easy for you to advise 
me to do what Heaven and earth couldn't make you 
do if you were in my place." 

In a very few cases the delinquency was so com- 
prehensive and multifarious as almost to warrant its 
being classified as total depravity, but that classifi- 
cation was of course not practicable. In such cases 
poverty and delinquency are indissolubly united. 



224 SOCIOLOGY 

The records in cases of this kind usually extend over 
many years — ^in one case over twenty years — and the 
account is a long story of crime, licentiousness, in- 
temperance and mendicancy. 

Causes of Distress of Charity Recipients 

Consideration is next given to the causes which 
operated to produce in more than a thousand fam- 
ilies a distress so deep that relief could be found only 
in a charity office. 

In characterizing the causes of poverty, it is well 
to use only such terms as the poverty-stricken per- 
son himself would understand. In doing this the 
word '' inefficiency" should rarely be used. A 
machine that does not fulfill the purpose for which it 
was constructed may be said to be inefficient and, 
by a metaphor, a man who does not do well the 
work for which he has been trained may be charged 
with inefficiency; but it is seldom that the charity 
seeker can justly be called inefficient. The condi- 
tions of life which surround the poverty-stricken 
class are incompatible with anything like effi- 
ciency. "It is the bitterest portion of the lot of the 
poor that they are deprived of the opportunity of 
learning to work well. To taunt them with that 
incapacity, and to regard it as the cause of poverty, 
is nothing else than a piece of blind insolence. In- 
efficiency is one of the worst and most degrading 
aspects of poverty; but to regard it as the leading 
cause is an error fatal to a true understanding of 
the problem." 

The same reasons that dissuade from assigning 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 325 

*' inefficiency" as a cause of poverty dissuade from 
assigning '* ignorance" as a cause. It is true that 
large numbers of charity seekers are ignorant of the 
art of right living, and the poverty of these might 
be ascribed to ^* ignorance," meaning that they were 
ignorant of the art of right living; but such a classi- 
fication would not throw much light on the subject 
of poverty. Nor would it tell the charity seeker any 
useful things about himself. If a man is told that 
his poverty is due to drunkenness, or licentiousness, 
or lawlessness, or mendicancy, he will understand 
and may respond morally to what is said; but if he is 
told that it is due to ignorance he will not, can not, 
have the faintest notion of what is meant. Ig- 
norance, like inefficiency, is one of the ugly aspects 
of poverty, but it can not be usefully regarded as 
one of the causes of poverty. 

There is a phase of ignorance that may some- 
times be rightly characterized as a cause of poverty. 
This is illiteracy. Modern life demands a knowledge 
of reading and writing; and a person who is ignorant 
of these arts is often as seriously impeded in the 
race for a livelihood as one who has a lame foot. 
The matter of illiteracy was therefore not disre- 
garded in this investigation. As far as the records 
gave an account of the literacy of the family, the facts 
were carefully noted. But the account was in many 
instances unsatisfactory and incomplete ; and taking 
them all together, the facts relating to illiteracy were 
not full enough to teU the whole story. A correct 
picture of the literacy of these families was desir- 
able; but even if one had been obtained, the addi- 
tional knowledge thereby furnished would not have 



2^6 SOCIOLOGY 

influenced the analysis now being made, for it 
happens that in these charity cases illiteracy, pure 
and simple, figures hardly at all as a cause of pov- 
erty. In one case a boy could not get employment 
as a messenger because he could not read and write. 
In another case a delicate man could not get a clerk- 
ship in a store for the same reason. Here ignorance 
in the sense of illiteracy was unquestionably a cause 
contributing to the poverty. In neither case, how- 
ever, did it happen to be a cause of such weight as 
to deserve notice in the schedules. 

"Irregularity of employment" is another ex- 
pression that has been avoided in the characteriza- 
tion of the causes of poverty, although this cause is 
at the bottom of so much distress that it might be 
justifiable to call irregularity of employment the 
** causing cause" of poverty. But such language is 
too broad to be useful. Industrial society, especially 
that segment of it wherein these charity recipients 
are comprised, is organized on the basis of irregu- 
larity of emplojonent. Among these workers there 
is no certainty that employment of any kind, regular 
or irregular, will be secured; and even when regular 
employment has been secured, many things, like 
sickness, severe weather, accident, fire, flood, panic, 
dullness of trade, strikes, or lockouts intervene to 
make it irregular. To say, therefore, that a man's 
poverty is due to irregularity of employment, is 
hardly more than to say that it is due to the adverse 
conditions which prevail in the industrial world. 

But while irregularity of employment has not 
been used as a convenient term in the enumeration 
of the causes of poverty, the subject has nevertheless 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 227 

received careful attention in this study. In evey 
case examined this question was asked: Does the 
chief wage-earner of this family seem to have a 
steady job? In those cases where the employment 
seemed to be of a kind that usually continues right 
along without serious break, the employee was re- 
garded as being regularly employed. In all other 
cases the employment was put down as irregular. 
Of the 1,051 cases in which it was possible to char- 
acterize the employment of the chief wage-earner 
as regular or irregular, 919 were irregular. That is 
to say, in about one family in eight the chief wage- 
earner could feel that he had steady work, while in 
seven-eighths of the cases the chief wage-earner was 
liable to lose his job at any moment. *'The curse of 
the American workman, '^ says Dr. T. S. Adams, '*is 
irregular employment.'' If this is true of the whole 
class of workmen, how distressingly true is it of 
the workmen among these charity recipients. 

The expression "financial element" is used in 
this discussion as a comprehensive phrase referring 
to a certain restricted class of causes which operate 
to produce distress. At first thought, ''financial ele- 
ment" would seem to be at the bottom of every case 
of distress. In a certain sense this is true, but for 
the purpose of this analysis a case of distress can 
not be so easily disposed of. For instance, there 
was a man whose wages were $5 a day, whose 
services were in demand, and who worked quite 
regularly but he squandered his money by drinking 
and gambling, and his wife and children were 
thrown upon charity. It would not be correct to 
ascribe this distress to a lack of money, and the 



328 SOCIOLOGY 

case shows that there is a non-financial as well as a 
financial element which operates to produce distress. 
The financial element, as used here, includes one, or 
several, or all of the following causes: Insufficient 
earnings, lack of employment, sickness, accident, 
old age, and severe weather. All of these in the last 
analysis operate like a financial cause in producing 
distress. In 28 of the families the ** financial ele- 
ment *' was not visible at all. In these families it was 
not possible to point to insufficient earnings, nor to 
lack of employment, nor to sickness, nor to accident, 
nor to old age, nor to severe weather, as contributing 
to the poverty; the financial element figured neither 
openly nor in disguise. Of the 28 families in which 
only the nonfinancial element appeared as the cause 
of distress 20 were white and 8 were colored. 

Immediate Causes of Distress 

Usually a case of distress acute enough to drive 
a family to charity is complicated. The following 
is typical of many: *'The husband has been out of 
work for two months; they are back in their rent 
and notice has been served, and they are likely to be 
set out on the street. There is nothing in the house 
to eat, while the wife expects to be confined in a very 
short time." At first glance it appears that the 
cause of distress in this case can be expressed by a 
single phrase. Lack of employment would seem to 
account satisfactorily for the distress. If, however, 
the record went on to show that a prolonged spell of 
cold weather prevented the husband from following 
his usual vocation, an indirect or contributing cause, 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS ' 339 

namely, severe weather, would have figured in the 
account. If further study of the record showed that 
the wife was an invalid with tuberculosis, and that 
for years the family had been kept down by reason 
of her condition, still another fact would have to be 
reckoned with, and sickness might have to be set 
down as the underlying, permanent cause of the 
destitution. 

This typical case, then, foreshadows three classes 
of causes, direct or immediate causes, indirect or 
contributing causes, and dominant or persistent 
causes. 

Immediate causes are those catastrophes — the 
debauch of the father, the confinement of the mother, 
the sudden and unexpected loss of work, the visita- 
tion of death — which overtake the family. The im- 
mediate cause is the one that impinges directly upon 
the consciousness of the applicant, and the one that 
seems to hurry him to the charity office. It is the 
cause which the applicant himself is apt to assign 
as a reason for making an appeal to charity. **What 
brings you here asking for sddV^ inquires the charity 
agent of the applicant. In the answer to this ques- 
tion will usually be found what is here called the 
immediate cause. 

The direct causes of distress in all the families 
were shown in a prepared table. 

Sickness easily leads the list. In nearly half 
the families that applied for aid for the first time in 
1905, the distress was directly connected with some 
form of bodily ailment. There was almost every 
kind of disease which flesh is heir to, but the greatest 



230 SOCIOLOGY 

distress was caused by rheumatism and tuberculosis, 
the latter leading by far all the other diseases. 

Figures can not tell the complete story of the 
ravages made by sickness in these families. In one 
case, the whole family was prostrate at one time. 
In another case, a teamster regularly employed at 
fairly good wages by a great express company was 
brought to charity by a prolonged illness. In still 
another case, where the regular wages of the husband 
was $60 a month, the sum of $800 had been saved. 
Sickness came and remained for many months, and 
before it had departed, every cent of the savings was 
wiped out, and the family was reduced to charity. 
Good wages, thrift, and regularity of employment, 
all combined, availed not to save the family from 
the havoc of a long illness. 

Next to sickness among the causes of immediate 
distress is the lack of employment, more than one- 
third of the families having sought relief for this 
cause. It will be understood that lack of employ- 
ment is to be taken here as meaning an entirely 
different thing from irregularity of employment. 
The latter expression as employed in this article has 
been used to denote a certain unsteadiness in the 
nature of the man's job or a certain insecurity in his 
tenure of it. Lack of employment on the other hand 
refers to the man's definite inability to get work 
during a definite period of time whether his usual 
vocation is classed as regular or irregular. For ex- 
ample, a man whose occupation is that of a clerk in 
a store loses his position and, before he can secure 
another place becomes an object of charity. Here 
the man's employment is classed as "regular," but 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 231 

the immediate cause of his distress is put down as 
"lack of employment. ' ' 

The charity records are constantly referring to 
the evil resulting from lack of employment: 

"X has been out of work nine weeks, and has 
used up all he saved." In this case X was a sober 
man and a member of a union, with a wage of $3.50 
per day — when he could get work. 

** While the husband was at work, his wages, to- 
gether with those of his wife, were sufficient to sup- 
port his family; but when the husband lost his job 
for only a week, the family was thrown upon 
charity." 

"The man earned $4 a day at structural iron- 
work, but a long-continued spell of bad weather 
exhausted the funds and brought the man to 
poverty." 

"The father had tramped all over the city looking 
for work, until his feet were sore." 

In the last excerpt, the reference to feet made 
sore by tramping in search of work calls attention 
to one of the most serious phases of the distress that 
is wrought by lack of employment. If a period of 
enforced idleness were a season of recuperation and 
rest, there would be a good side to lack of employ- 
ment. But enforced idleness does not bring recuper- 
ation and rest. The search for labor is much more 
fatiguing than labor itself. An applicant sitting in 
one of the charity offices awaiting for the arrival of 
the agent related his experiences while trying to get 
work. He would rise at 5 o'clock in the morning 
and walk 3 or 4 miles to some distant point where 
he had heard work could be had. He went early so 



232 SOCIOLOGY 

as to be ahead of others, and he walked because he 
could not afford to pay car fare. Disappointed in 
securing a job at the first place, he would tramp to 
another place miles away, only to meet with disap- 
pointment again. Then would follow long journeys 
to other places. After a day consumed in useless 
tramping, he would make his way home, exhausted 
in body and depressed in spirit. The next day would 
be a repetition of the day before, and every day it 
became more and more difficult to go home to his 
family without anything to give them. *'It almost 
grieves a man to death," he said, "not to have some- 
thing to give his wife and children." As the man 
told his story he drove home the truth that lack of 
employment means far more than simply a loss in 
dollars and cents; it means a drain upon the vital 
forces that can not be measured in terms of money. 

Next to sickness and lack of employment in the 
list, but a long way behind both, stands insufficient 
wages as a direct cause of distress. Insufficient 
wages means that the rate of wages was so low that 
the family could not live upon the earnings, even 
though the full wage was being received at the time 
of the application. The preceding table shows that 
81 families whose wage-earners were regularly em- 
ployed were compelled to supplement their earnings 
by doles from the charity office. 

In determining whether the wage was sufficient 
for subsistence or not, a calculation was made based 
upon the supposition that an adult male requires 
at least $1 per week for food (uncooked). In es- 
timating for rent in the calculation, a monthly sum 
ranging in amount from $5 to $8, according to the 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 233 

size of the family, was allowed. Wlien these allow- 
ances for food and rent consumed all (or practically 
all) the earnings of the family visible at the time of 
the application, the immediate cause of the distress 
was determined to be insufficient wages. A glance 
at the earnings shown in the tables shows that the 
methods of determination here adopted would very 
frequently result in finding insufficient wages as the 
cause of the distress. In some of the tables, account 
was taken only of the wages of the chief earner, 
whereas in a later table the earnings of all the mem- 
bers of the family were taken into account. In 
making the latter table, very frequently a family was 
regarded as receiving insufficient earnings, even 
though the exact amount of these earnings was not 
stated. Thus where the applicant was a widow with 
6 small children, and her earnings consisted only of 
what she made at the washtub, the cause of distress 
was put down as insufficient earnings, for the reason 
that the regular work of one woman at washing and 
ironing will not bring in enough to support a family 
of 7. When forming conclusions as to whether the 
wages received were sufficient or not, hard and fast 
rules were often found to be impracticable. Each 
case was studied in its entirety, and judgment was 
based upon all the facts. A few illustrations wiU 
serve to show how this subject was treated in cases 
where wages were indefinitely stated: 

1. A family of 8 persons. The rate of wages is 
not stated, but the records show that when it was 
a family of 6 persons the husband was earning $1.52 
per day as a laborer, and that this was not sufficient 
at times to keep them from charity. Although the 



234 SOCIOLOGY 

rate of wages at the time of application in 1905 is 
not given, the occupation of the husband was in that 
year still that of a laborer; and since the family had 
increased to 8 persons, there was no hesitation in 
ascribing the distress to insufficient earnings. 

2. A family of 9 persons. The father is a waiter, 
the wife a laundress. A girl of 16, nurses, and a boy 
of 15 earns a little now and then at jobbing. The 
young children go to school. When all the wage- 
earners are at work, there is no need for charity; but 
when the wages of a single member of the family 
are cut off or interfered with, recourse to charity had 
to be made. For the reason that it was only normal 
and inevitable that some untoward events should 
arise, the destitution was put down to insufficient 
wages. Where the wages are so low that the least 
ripple of adversity brings a family to poverty, wages 
may be fairly regarded as insufficient. 

3. A case extending over many years. An aged 
couple work and make what they can. Their work 
was irregular, and sometimes they earned so little 
that they were compelled to visit the charity office. 
Here not insufficient earnings but old age was 
regarded as the direct cause. 

4. A family of two — ^man and wife — both quite 
old. The man served as a watchman at $5 per week, 
a sum not sufficient to keep himself and wife from 
charity. The man worked regularly and performed 
his work well. Not old age, but insufficient wages 
was here assigned as the direct cause. 

5. A family of 9 persons. Husband's salary $9 
per week. Oldest boy clerks at $3 per week, but 
his earnings are not regular. Agent states that 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 835 

''man has regular work, but family is so large that 
it is not sufficient for their needs." The distress in 
this case was determined to be due to insufficient 
wages, the conclusion being based in part upon the 
comment of the agent. 

In 55 families the immediate cause of distress 
was accident. This cause in its economic results is 
quite like that of sickness; and viewed in this light, 
the cases of accident might very properly have been 
classified with those of sickness. One phase, how- 
ever, of the subject of accidents among the poor 
requires special notice — the phase bearing upon the 
question of the employer's liability. As the cases 
are studied, one is impressed with the justness of 
liberal liability or compensation laws for workmen. 
A few of the agents' notes descriptive of accidents 
may suffice to show present conditions : 

1. A man was working, helping in the building of 
a house. While wheeling a wheelbarrow, he stepped 
aside to let a fellow- workman pass. In passing he 
was jostled, and was caused to lose his barlance. He 
fell, and was made a permanent cripple. He received 
no compensation. 

2. A man was working for a large transportation 
company, handling boxes. At 3 p. m. he hurt his 
foot severely. Nothing was allowed in the way of 
liability, and the statement is made that the man 
was paid for only three-fourths of a day's work. 

3. A man was injured by an explosion while 
working on a sewer for the city. In this case a small 
indemnity was allowed, but the authorities explicitly 
stated that the city was under no obligation to give 



236 SOCIOLOGY 

anything, although the disability caused by the acci- 
dent was permanent. 

4. A man was working at a freight depot, and 
while in the performance of his labors met with an 
accident which cut off his earnings for several weeks, 
and which sent him to charity. No compensation. 

5. A man was caught in a rope and crushed be- 
fore the machinery could be stopped. The accident, 
it was alleged, was due to the fact that there were 
not proper appliances of safety to the machine. No 
compensation. 

Fifth among the causes that urged these families 
to seek the charity office was old age. In 49 families 
the applicant's earning power had been exhausted 
by the weight of years. '*I am worn out," was the 
way one applicant, a physician of four score and 
seven, expressed it. In many of the old-age cases 
there is a record of but one visit to the charity office. 
This often meant that the applicant had found a 
permanent home, either in the grave or in the 
poorhouse. 

The five leading, direct causes that operate to 
throw the poor upon charity have been pointed out. 
It is seen that sickness, lack of employment, insuffi- 
cient wages, accident, and old age constitute nearly 
94 per cent of all the direct causes. This is to say 
that in nearly nineteen cases out of twenty the im- 
pelling cause of the application is directly referable 
to a financial factor; either the rate of wage is too 
low for subsistence, or there is a stoppage of income 
due to a lack of employment, to sickness, to accident, 
or to old age. 

Most of the remaining direct causes are so re- 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 237 

motely comiected with the question of wages that 
they may be regarded as non-financial. Sudden de- 
sertion may plunge a family into temporary distress, 
even when the deserter is receiving high wages. A 
spree will often cause a resort to charity, even 
though the husband is in receipt of a fairly good 
income. A man whose family is subsisting upon 
charity may be lying in prison for the commission 
of a crime ; yet his incarceration, the direct cause of 
his family's distress, may have had nothing what- 
ever to do with the question of wages. The non- 
financial direct causes, however, form but an insig- 
nificant portion of all. In only about one case out of 
twenty can it be said that a financial element did 
not figure as an immediate cause of distress. 

Contributing or Indirect Causes of Distress 

Usually the story of a charity case is only begun 
when the direct cause has been stated. In 854 of the 
families, a contributing cause might be added to the 
cause that appears on the sxu*face. In 329 families, 
the direct cause told the whole story. The case was 
simply due to a temporary loss of employment, to 
a debauch, to a spell of cold weather, or to some 
other isolated and perhaps non-recurring circum- 
stance. 

The list of contributing causes differs essentially 
from that of immediate causes. Sickness, insuffi- 
cient earnings, lack of employment, and accident 
figure very much less than they did in the direct 
causes, while desertion, intemperance, and neglect 
by natural supporters figure very much more. New 



238 SOCIOLOGY 

causes, too, appear. Among these are licentiousness, 
shiftlessness, mendicancy, and thievery. Plainly 
none of these could very well appear as direct causes. 
The applicant could hardly say that he made the 
appeal for charity because he was a beggar or be- 
cause he was a thief. 

A broad survey of the surface causes of distress 
showed that in a vast majority of cases the trouble 
was, at bottom, due to financial adversity. A broad 
survey of the contributing causes shows that the 
undercurrent of distress is strongly colored with 
moral delinquency. Desertion, intemperance, licen- 
tiousness, neglect by natural supporters, mendi- 
cancy, and thievery constitute about 25 per cent of 
all these contributing forces. The subject of con- 
tributing causes is therefore closely interwoven with 
the subject of moral delinquencies. 

Among the contributing causes is one which has 
not been set down as a delinquency but which in 
quality closely approaches delinquency, namely, 
shiftlessness. In 55 families this has been given as 
the contributing cause. Shiftlessness is here re- 
garded as consisting in a failure to make the best of 
opportunities. It is not exactly laziness. Laziness 
does not appear in any of the tables as a cause of 
distress, for the reason that the charity agents will 
not give to lazy people. If the wage-earner is sus- 
pected of being lazy, a **work tesf is applied. 
When the industry of a man is a question of doubt, 
he is sent to the municipal workhouse, where he can 
earn some money at sawing wood. A woman sus- 
pected of being lazy is given an opportunity to earn 
something by sweeping or cleaning or scrubbing. If 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 239 

the applicant will do the work provided for him, he 
is not regarded as being lazy. If he will not do the 
work, he is put down as lazy, and relief is withheld. 
Thus lazy applicants are not enrolled among the re- 
cipients and, theoretically, laziness is not discover- 
able in the records. 

Because shiftlessness is not downright laziness, it 
has not been set down in this study among the moral 
delinquencies, the class in which laziness un- 
doubtedly belongs. But shiftlessness is very similar 
to laziness. For instance, a family comes from the 
coimtry to live in the city. It can not stir itself to 
meet the demands of city Hfe. There are girls in the 
family old enough to work, but they shrink from 
work because they had not been accustomed to earn 
a living, and are unable to adjust their notions to 
urban conditions. Positions are secured for them; 
but they work in a half-hearted way, and soon find 
themselves out of employment. The wages of the 
father are insufficient to feed aU the mouths, and the 
family finds itself in distress. In the records of such 
families there is an habitual failure to take hold 
and do the best that can be done; and where such 
failure is evident, it has been characterized as 
shiftlessness. 

One other cause contributing greatly to the pov- 
erty of these families must receive notice here. This 
is severe weather. In 79 families, nature itself 
operated to produce distress. *' Please be kind 
enough," said one applicant in a note written to the 
agent, *'to send me some groceries and fuel, as I am 
very much in need. It is very hard to get on now 
with all this family, and my husband has not been 



340 SOCIOLOGY 

working this cold weather when the ground is frozen. 
Remember me, please, and God will remember you." 
Lack of employment was put down in this case as 
the direct cause, but a cause almost as direct was 
severe weather. Some of the agents' notes show the 
ways in which the cold weather contributes to 
poverty: 

''The family was in need of fuel, as they were 
unable to pick up any cinders on account of snow." 

*'It was simply impossible to get out and do 
work, there was so much snow on the ground." 

''He (a blind man) couldn't stand on the street 
and sell shoe strings and peanuts, it was so cold." 

"Impossible to do her washing, as the pipes and 
hydrants are frozen and she has to walk three 
squares for water." 

"He (a ragpicker) can not work in the ice and 



snow." 



Persistent Causes of Distress 



When determining what was the underlying or 
persistent cause or causes of a family's distress it 
was found necessary to reckon with a time element. 
In the case of a family where the records showted 
only one application for aid, or where the distress 
continued for only a short period of time, the dom- 
inant or persistent cause was of course not dis- 
cernible. The records revealed a persistent cause 
only when the charity history extended through sev- 
eral years. When looking for the persistent cause, 
therefore, it became necessary to confine the search 
to those families whose charity career was of con- 
siderable duration. 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 241 

In 683 cases, for which reports were made as to 
the year in which relief was first given, the record 
went back of 1905. In 307 cases the family had 
been upon charity for five years or more; in 56 cases 
for ten years or more; in 13 cases for fifteen years 
or more, and in 3 cases for twenty years or more. 
In one case the year was not reported. 

It was found convenient to classify the cases as 
temporary, intermittent, or permanent. When it is 
said that a case is temporary, it is meant that the 
records show no occasion of distress previous to the 
first application in 1905 and no further recourse to 
the Associated Charities for aid after the distress of 
that year was relieved. This does not mean, how- 
ever, that in a temporary case there was only one act 
of relief, for many cases designated as temporary 
involved records extending over several months, and 
showed that numerous doles were given. They were 
put down as temporary because they covered one 
definite season of distress and that not a very long 
one. Nor must it be thought that because a case was 
classified as temporary that the family was no longer 
a recipient of charity. In some cases temporary re- 
lief marked only a fetep on the road to the poorhouse. 
More often, however, it marked only a short period 
of misfortune and one that was safely tided over. 

A tailor with his wife and two small children 
drifted to Washington to search for work. Employ- 
ment was not speedily found, and the funds were 
exhausted. The wife applied to charity. Corres- 
pondence brought out the fact that the man's record 
was excellent. A former employer wrote that the 
applicant was a first-class workman, upright, sober. 



342 SOCIOLOGY 

and anxious to work. The charity people helped him 
a little with provisions, and secured him suitable 
employment, and that was the beginning and the end 
of his experience with charity. In the temporary 
case we sometimes get a glimpse of a family at the 
lowest ebb of its fortunes — just when it is in the 
trough of adversity. For example, a husband works 
at $5 a week while his wife earns what she can at 
the washtub. The combined earnings do not meet 
the demands of the family, and charity is sought. 
But at the very time of distress two boys large 
enough to work begin to earn something, and the 
family makes no further appeal for aid. Sometimes 
the temporary case marks simply a sharp, short 
<2risis in domestic affairs. A chief wage-earner de- 
serts his family, leaving it penniless. At first there 
is nothing to do but to go to the charity office. When 
new adjustments have been made, however, and the 
wife and children have found employment, no fur- 
ther appeal for aid is made. 

Of all the charity cases, more than one-third (415) 
mark only a fleeting period of adversity. The tables 
show, too, that the immediate causes of these tem- 
porary appeals to charity are mainly sickness and 
lack of employment, the distress in more than three- 
fourths of the cases being due to these two causes 
alone. Among the contributing causes of the tem- 
porary cases, sickness still holds the lead, although 
desertion, intemperance, and licentiousness are much 
more conspicuous among the contributing than 
among the direct causes of temporary distress. 

The intermittent case is where the appeal for aid 
is made only at intervals, sometimes of long and 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 243 

sometimes of short duration. In many a family 
prosperity alternates with adversity. For example, 
a large family is mentioned, which, in its whole 
career, has enjoyed much of prosperity, but has not 
been able altogether to keep its name from the char- 
ity roll. In 1902 a cold snap drove it to the charity 
office. In 1904 the husband lost his job for several 
weeks, and appeal for aid had to be made again. In 
1905 a prolonged spell of sickness caused a third 
appeal to be made. The family tried hard to keep 
its head above water, but once in a long while it was 
unable to do so unaided. Sometimes an intermittent 
case shows a strange regularity in the recurrence of 
the date of application. In one case, application was 
made and aid was given January 6, 1904, January 

12, 1905, January 12, 1906, January 17, 1907. In 
another family, aid was given January 20, 1905, Feb- 
ruary 21, 1906, February 5, 1907. In these cases, coal 
was given each time, and the periodicity of the dis- 
tress gave rise to a suspicion that the applicants were 
something of frauds, and that the charity office was 
visited merely because experience had taught that at 
about a certain time in the year a little fuel could be 
secured. 

Sometimes, in the intermittency of the dis- 
tress, there can be read the varying fortunes of 
the family. A widow was left in 1892 with 7 chil- 
dren, the ages of the children being respectively 15, 

13, 10, 7, 6, 5, 3. During the years 1892, 1893, 1894, 
and 1895 her applications for relief were frequent. 
In 1896 they became less frequent, and by 1899 they 
had ceased, not to begin again until 1905, when the 
sickness and death of one child and the loss of the 



2U SOCIOLOGY 

wages of another brought the family again to charity. 
In this case it was plain that the applications for 
charity decreased in number as the children grew 
older, and thus made an increase in the labor re- 
sources of the family. Frequently the charity 
record ends altogether when the children get large 
enough to bring in some money. 

All cases that were neither temporary nor inter- 
mittent were classified as permanent. A permanent 
case differs from an intermittent case only in the 
continuity of the relief. Where aid was given right 
along, week after week for months and years, with- 
out serious break, the case was designated as 
permanent. 

Where the relief was either permanent or intermit- 
tent, some dominant or persistent cause was usually 
discoverable. Where the persistent causes in both 
permanent and intermittent cases are given, it is 
seen that in 768 cases, or in nearly two-thirds of all, 
it was possible to assign a persistent or underlying 
cause of the poverty. 

In this list of deep-seated, persistent causes we 
find the non-financial or moral element figuring as it 
has figured in no previous comparison. It is true that 
sickness leads, as always, and lack of employment is 
responsible for much; but shiftlessness, desertion, in- 
temperance, and licentiousness here answer for much 
more than has elsewhere been charged against them. 
As direct impelling causes of distress, these moral, or 
as we might very well say, immoral, elements pre- 
vailed in hardly 5 per cent of all the cases; as con- 
tributory causes, they prevailed in about 25 per cent 
of aU the cases; but as the imderlying cause of pro- 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 345 

longed distress, they prevail in a third of all the 
cases. As knowledge of a case becomes more com- 
prehensive, the greater does the relative importance 
of the moral element appear. A consideration, then, 
of the deeply seated causes of the poverty of these 
768 families shows that in the final analysis the dis- 
tress was due in one-third of the cases to moral ele- 
ments, and in two-thirds of the cases to financial ele- 
ments. The poverty of charity recipients would 
therefore seem to present a problem that is some- 
thing less than one-third moral, and something more 
than two-thirds economic. This, at least, is the con- 
clusion drawn from the charity records in Washing- 
ton. 

Summary. 

The results of the study may be summarized as 
follows : 

Material aid, consisting of money, food, and 
clothing, was given in 1905 to 1,256 families in all. 
The charity records of 1,183 of these families were 
taken as the basis of this study. The number of per- 
$ons in these 1,183 families was 4,365. These re- 
cipients constitute the floating, unattached, isolated 
poor of the city. This isolation is seen in the fact 
that of the 1,775 wage-earners among the recipients 
only 23 of the 81 who reported on the subject stated 
that they belonged to labor organizations, and in only 
40 families was there evidence of membership in fra- 
ternal or beneficial societies. 

The average size of the charity family is 3.7 per- 
sons, as against an average of 4.9 persons of the Dis- 
trict of Columbia. Excluding that large class of char- 



246 SOCIOLOGY 

ity families consisting of only 1 person or only 2 per- 
sons, the average of the charity family is brought up 
to 5, a normal average. The charity family therefore 
is neither much larger nor much smaller than the 
prosperous family. 

The number of children under 16 in the charity 
families was 47.7 per cent of the charity population, 
whereas the class of children in the District of Co- 
lumbia at large constituted only 26.6 per cent of the 
population. Children under 10 constitute 30.9 per 
cent of the population of the charity families, while 
of the total population of the District only 16.8 per 
cent were under 10 years of age. In the District the 
excess of females over males among children under 
16 was 3.2 per cent; in the charity families the excess 
was 18.3 per cent. Among children 10 or under 16, 
the excess of females over males in the charity popu- 
lation was 21.8 per cent, and in the District the ex- 
cess was only 8.1 per cent. So in the charity families 
the number of helpless children was relatively great, 
and the excess in the number of female children was 
strikingly large. 

In 12 per cent of all the families there was deser- 
tion. Counting only the families in which the hus- 
band and wife were both living, there was desertion 
in nearly 20 per cent of the cases. Desertion was 
found in 13 per cent of the white families in which 
there were both a husband and wife, and in 24.4 per 
cent of the colored families. In nearly 30 per cent of 
all the families either the husband or the wife was 
dead, and in 37.5 per cent of all the cases the family 
was without a male supporter at its head. The char- 
ity family is therefore very often a fatherless family. 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 247 

Divorce does not prevail to any appreciable degree 
among the charity-receiving families. 

Of all the persons in the charity families 16 years 
of age or over, 77.2 per cent were employed in gain- 
ful occupations. In the 271 white families in which 
both husband and wife were at home, both husband 
and wife were gainfully employed in 95 cases ; and in 
the 291 colored families having both a husband and 
a wife at home, both husband and wife were employed 
in 222 cases. Extreme poverty has relatively a 
greater effect in drawing white married women into 
the ranks of wage-earners than it has in the case of 
colored married women. Of the children under 16 
years of age in the charity families, 12 per cent were 
gainfully employed, a much larger percentage than 
obtained in the District at large. 

On the charity roll, many occupations are repre- 
sented, although laborers, laundresses, and domestics 
comprised more than 60 per cent of all the chief wage- 
earners. Among the wage-earners in the families 
driven to charity were 27 carpenters, 25 painters, 10 
plasterers, 9 clerks, 7 iron workers, 5 shoemakers, 
and 4 plumbers. 

The actual earnings of a family receiving charity 
is a most difficult matter to determine, for at the time 
of charit}^ seeking there is in most cases only finan- 
cial chaos. In more than two-thirds of the families 
the wages of the chief wage-earner at the time of ap- 
plication had entirely ceased. In 80 families there 
was no wage-earner at all. Altogether, three-fourths 
of the families were deprived of a regular breadwin- 
ner at the time of the application, a circumstance 
that, prima facie at least, indicates that the poverty; 



248 SOCIOBOGY 

of these poor is chiefly an economic or financial and 
not a moral problem. 

In 78 families, the chief wage-earner was earning 
the normal rate of wage at the time of application. 
In 269 cases, the normal wage of the chief wage- 
earner was reported in dollars and cents. This nor- 
mal daily wage varied from 8 cents a day to $5 a day. 
In over two-fifths of the families in which the normal 
wages were definitely known, the rate of the male 
worker ranged from $1 to $2 per day, the wage most 
often not exceeding $1.50 per day. These workers 
were for the most part day laborers, some of them 
being employed on the streets of the city. In 206 
of the families there was evidence of income addi- 
tional to that derived from labor. In 43 cases, pen- 
sions were received. With the exception of pensions 
the element of additional income was insignificant; 
when the regular earnings of the members of the 
family were cut off practically everything was gone. 

Eelief in 60 per cent of the cases consisted in giv- 
ing food. Next to food, fuel was most frequently 
given. In nearly half the cases fuel was one of the 
articles given. The payment of rent does not figure 
largely in the relief extended, for the reason that the 
charity organizations will seldom undertake to meet 
arrears in rent, and for the further reason that the 
applicants adopt the policy of getting the rent paid 
first and then going to the charity office for food and 
fuel. The real magnitude of the rent problem in the 
lives of these recipients is seen in the fact that 208 
of the 1,183 families, at some time and to some extent, 
found arrears of rent associated with their appeal to 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 349 

charity. The chattel-mortgage loan figured in the 
distress of 26 families. 

In two-thirds of the families, there was no marked 
delinquency whatever. Of the 394 families tainted 
with delinquency, 174 were white and 220 colored, 
these numbers representing 38 per cent of the total 
white families and 30 per cent of the total colored 
families, respectively. The leading delinquencies 
were intemperance, desertion, licentiousness, neglect 
by natural supporters, lawlessness, thievery, and 
mendicancy. In nearly one-third of all the families 
in which delinquency was visible, intemperance was 
the evil. In 96 cases, the intemperance was in the 
white families and in 32 cases in colored families. 
Next to intemperance is the vice of desertion. In 
102 cases desertion occiu'red in colored families and 
in 42 cases in white families. Licentiousness is third 
on the list of delinquencies. This vice was discover- 
able in 17 white families and in 47 colored families. 
The evidence supporting the charge of licentiousness 
consisted in part of the presence of illegitimate chil- 
dren, of whom there were 11 in white families and 68 
in colored families. Neglect by natiu*al supporters — 
not including cases of outright desertion — occurred 
in 12 white families and 31 colored families. Akin 
to delinquency, but not included among the delin- 
quencies, was a certain reliance upon charity, a cer- 
tain inclination to pauperism. This spirit of de- 
pendence cropped out in 69 families, 40 of which were 
white and 29 colored. 

When considering the causes of the distress of 
the recipients, it was found practicable to avoid using 
the terms "inefficiency," ** ignorance," and **irregu- 



250 . SOCIOLOGY 

larity of employment ' ' to denote causation. The sub- 
ject of regularity and irregularity of employment, 
however, received careful attention, and it was found 
that of the 1,051 cases in which it was possible to 
characterize the employment of the chief wage- 
earner as regular or irregular, 919 were irregular. 

In the discussion of causes, the expression "finan- 
cial element" is used to include one or several or all 
of the following elements of causation: insufficient 
earnings, lack of employment, sickness, accident, old 
age, and severe weather. In 28 families (20 white, 8 
colored), the financial element did not enter at all 
into the explanation of the causes of distress. 

Among the immediate causes of distress — those 
that impinged directly on the consciousness of the 
applicant and hurried him to the charity office — sick- 
ness figured in nearly one-half of the families, rheu- 
matism and tuberculosis leading all the other dis- 
eases. Next to sickness, lack of employment was the 
immediate cause of most distress, more than one- 
third of all the cases being assigned to this cause. 
Third in the list of immediate causes, stands insuf- 
ficient wages. In 81 families the wages were so low 
that the family could not live upon the earnings, even 
though the full wage was being received at the time 
of the application. In 55 cases the immediate cause 
of distress was due to accident. Illustrations of the 
circumstances attending these accidents show plainly 
enough the need of a liberal liability law. In 49 
cases, old age was the direct cause of the appeal to 
charity. 

Sickness, lack of emplojrment, insufficient wages, 
accident, and old age constituted 94 per cent of all 



SOCIOLOGICAL METHODS 251 

direct causes. That is to say, in nineteen cases out of 
twenty the impelling cause of the application is di- 
rectly referable to a financial factor. 

In the immediate causes of 329 cases could be seen 
a full explanation of the distress. In 854, the immedi- 
ate cause was supplemented by a contributory cause. 
As contributory causes, sickness, insufficient earn- 
ings, lack of employment, and accident figure very 
much less than they did as immediate causes, while 
desertion, intemperance, and neglect by natural sup- 
porters figured very much more. Among the con- 
tributory causes there appear also certain causes that 
did not appear among the direct causes, such as licen- 
tiousness, shiftlessness, mendicancy, thievery. While 
the immediate causes were in the vast majority of 
cases due to financial adversity, the undercurrent of 
distress was strongly colored with moral delinquency 
— desertion, intemperance, licentiousness, neglect by 
natural supporters, mendicancy, and thievery con- 
stituting about 25 per cent of all the contributory 
forces. In 55 families the controlling cause of dis- 
tress was put down as shiftlessness, a fault that was 
regarded as consisting in a failure to make the best 
of opportunities. In 79 cases severe weather oper- 
ated as a contributing cause. 

When studying the subject of underlying or per- 
sisting causes, it was convenient to classify the cases 
as temporary, intermittent, or permanent. More than 
one-third of the cases were found to be temporary; 
and in these, of course, no deep-seated cause was dis- 
cernible. In 768 cases it was possible to assign a 
persistent or underlying cause of the poverty. Here 
the nonfinancial or moral element figured much more 



253 SOCIOLOGY 

prominently than in any previous comparison. As 
direct, impelKng causes, sMftlessness, desertion, in- 
temperance, and licentiousness had to answer for 
hardly 5 per cent of all the cases. As contributory 
causes, they prevailed in about 25 per cent of all the 
cases, but as the underlying cause of prolonged dis- 
tress, they prevailed in one-third of all the cases. 

S. E. Forman. 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES. 
I. Sociology. 

Philosophers and thinkers are divided in opinion 
as to the possibility of there being a science of so- 
ciety, with laws at once definite, consistent, and as 
capable of prevision, in regard to men's actions in 
association with each other, and their sequences, as 
are the laws which have been laid down as governing 
the world of nature. 

There are many who look with distrust upon the 
attempt which has been made by such master minds 
as Comte and Herbert Spencer to establish such a 
connection between human nature and conduct, on 
the one hand, and its natural consequences, on the 
other, as shall justify the enunciation of laws to 
which these to all appearance respond. Such per- 
sons have contended that science, depending as it 
does for the validity of its laws on the constant 
recurrence of a series of identical facts and their 
(so far as ascertained) imchanging sequences, can 
have no validity or reality in a sphere where these 
conditions are admittedly impossible of realization. 

The facts of human history, it is said, be they 
ever so faithfully recorded, are valueless for the pur- 
pose of guiding us in the constructing of such laws, 
because they can never repeat themselves. The in- 
dividuals who compose society can furnish no clue, 

253 



254 SOCIOLOGY 

because no two of them are identical with each other 
or with any of the units that have contributed to form 
the society of preceding ages. For nature, with pro- 
gressive and unceasing change, renders duplication 
unknown. Even a parallel which may be asserted 
between two periods cannot be instituted with any 
reliance on its being approximately accurate. For 
with mankind, knowledge has so rapidly increased in 
range and in precision that occasionally a decade is 
sufficient to revolutionize our conceptions of the pos- 
sibilities of human destiny, and entirely to modify 
our ideas of morality and duty. While we are de- 
ducing laws from our present knowledge, a new 
regime is ushered in; old influences lose their power, 
and old conceptions are forever supplanted by the 
more extended volume of knowledge and the higher 
ideals involved. 

Identity, therefore, being non-existent, and simi- 
larities between our units close enough to be valuable 
being also lacking, "Where," the doubtless tri- 
umphantly ask, **are the data which wiU form a 
stable basis for a social science?" 

There is much appearance of reason in this view 
of the case; but it is probable that it originates in, 
and owes its continuance to, a misconception of the 
true meaning of the term law, when used in connec- 
tion with science. There are really no absolute and 
final laws in any branch of science. What, by com- 
mon consent, we designate laws, are merely formulas 
expressive of the sequences and relationship of the 
facts which have been acciunulated by the most care- 
ful and extended observation. We cannot demon- 
strate scientifically that there is any inherent neces- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 255 

sity in, or any power compelling, the continuance of 
tlie particular order which has, as far as our observa- 
tion goes, prevailed up to the present time. It is 
quite impossible for us to prove, as Karl Pearson 
demonstrates in his "Grammar of Science," that a 
cataclysm may not engulf the universe to-morrow; 
though our past experience gives an overwhelming 
probability against such a cataclysm. 

It is well, therefore, to understand clearly that our 
capacity to construct laws for any branch of science 
is limited strictly by our observation of the particu- 
lar order of events in the past, and of the frequency 
with which they have occurred without variation; 
from this we proceed to an inference, strong in pro- 
portion to the period over which the recurrence has 
been observed, that it is an invariable routine. Such, 
however, is never probable. We may even proceed, 
from what we have observed to recur with unvarying 
regularity, to deduce laws to explain other observed 
phenomena which will so harmonize with the phe- 
nomena in hand as to be accepted as a satisfactory 
explanation by the normal mind. But it must always 
be remembered that these theories are liable at any 
moment to be disproved by the addition of fresh 
factors, which, though slight, and at first sight unim- 
portant, may change the whole conception of the sub- 
ject 

Examples are numerous of practical experience 
demonstrating the fallacy of theories sustained by 
the strongest analogies ; and illustrations are common 
of the important results which have accrued from the 
more minute and critical examination of the facts. 
The weU-known instance of the difficulty with which 



266 SOCIOLOGY 

the mechanical theory of heat superseded the caloric 
theory, and of the great development of the steam 
engine, which immediately became practicable, may 
be cited as an example. 

In the region of science, therefore, we may con- 
fidently assert that no positive and final laws are pos- 
sible. And as our means of acquiring and recording 
exact information become more perfected, the in- 
creased volume of knowledge wiU enable us to frame 
more comprehensive formulas or laws ; so that assur- 
ance of finality cannot be given at any time. There 
is no fatal necessity in the physical laws — ^no more 
than in social laws. Their validity and permanence 
are commensurate only with the extent and accuracy 
which has characterized the collection of the data; 
and in no branch can it be asserted that investigation 
has been so exhaustive and exact that we cannot hope 
for more light. 

Absolute prevision being beyond the claim made 
for the laws of any science by the true scientist, it is 
difficult to understand upon what rational basis a 
place in science can be denied to those conditional 
laws of society which are formulated from the data 
collected regarding the history of man — ^his physical, 
psychological, and sociological development. In each 
of these three aspects we possess, undoubtedly, au- 
thentic information of the progress which man has 
made ; and from them we who believe in a social sci- 
ence deduce not only the order of evolution but also 
the causes which have contributed to make modifica- 
tions imperative to existence. 

That physical improvement and specialization of 
organism was a necessary precedent to mental ele- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 257 

vation whicli would make possible a social system, 
and that this system would, with every increase of 
mental — which would be accompanied by moral — im- 
provement, become more nearly perfect needs only 
to be stated to be accepted as an axiom. It is impos- 
sible for us ever to know the gulf which separates 
barbarism from civilization; for while we might, by 
transplanting existing barbaric nations to the condi- 
tions necessary to hasten their evolution, and thus in 
a comparatively short time force their development 
to higher types, it would not aid us in deciding the 
question. Primitive man had to win everything in 
his advancement; and the necessity for advancing 
was forced on him by the altering conditions of life. 
It would be only when the niggardliness of unculti- 
vated nature no longer sufficed for the sustenance of 
all the organic life on the globe, and man had to prove 
his supremacy over other animals if he was to retain 
dominion, that his mental resources would be ex- 
erted, and by their exercise strengthened and devel- 
oped, until the possibilities of modern civilization 
would be reached. 

It may, however, be asserted that while the gen- 
eral course of progress is easily traced in the foot- 
prints that have been made by our race on the sands 
of time, yet particular details of their action are not 
so easily ascertained; and by reason of this want of 
precision no definite forecast can be made. *'What 
do we really know," it may be asked, ^^of the facts 
underlying historical records ? ' ' These too frequent- 
ly are ignored in the desire to give exact biographical 
details of the leading personages, which will enable 
U8 to form about as correct an estimate of the real 



358, SOCIOLOGY 

life of the period as the inflated and exaggerated ut- 
terances of the popular demagogue would give us of 
the condition of "the masses." 

This is largely true. But there are still in our his- 
torical records and in our personal experience indi- 
cations of one fundamental principle underlying all 
human conduct, a principle ingrafted in nature, es- 
sential to our existence; and while occasionally dis- 
torted to an extent which makes us shrink from ac- 
knowledging its power, is not only the main spring 
of our progress but also the salvation of our race. 
That principle is self-preservation. In civilized so- 
ciety its action is greatly modified from what is cur- 
rent under primitive conditions; but it is the real 
power which rules the world of men. No longer in 
the original sense is it self-preservation; for the dan- 
ger is not now to life, but to fortune; and it is in pos- 
terity the conditions which will contribute to our own 
aggrandizement, careless of how oiu* neighbors may 
fair, that we now carry on the unending struggle. 

A great amount of spurious sentiment is indulged 
in over this — what reformers call the selfishness of 
man. To it are attributed most of the misery and 
suffering in the world; but despite its unamiable 
aspect when viewed cursorily and designated self- 
love and selfishness, there is no more important prin- 
ciple implanted in the human breast. From it, pure 
and unmixed, there are more advantages than ever 
could accrue from love of your neighbor, which looks 
so much better to profess. 

Every step of human progress may be placed to 
its credit; and with its disappearance enterprise 
would die, and mankind would become stagnant. The 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 259 

basis of all the manufacturing trade and commerce 
in the country is self-love. Men do not invest their 
capital in mills for the sake of giving the people an 
opportunity of earning a livelihood; they do not put 
down a plant for the building of ships and the con- 
structing of engines for the love of giving employ- 
ment; they do not import the products of other coun- 
tries simply for the pleasure of seeing the natives of 
their own enjoying them; nor do they export the 
products of our own country for the gratification of 
their love for the foreigners, and their desire that 
these should be happy. All these undertakings — all 
the works in the world — are prompted not by love of 
neighbors but by love of self, and by the conviction 
that the path selected is the shortest way to the in- 
creasing of their portion of the world's wealth. 

The result to the community is the same as if it 
were done solely for the benefit of the community; 
for no man can further his individual interests in a 
lawful manner without benefiting society at large. 
Nothing but our desire to further our own fortunes 
would induce us to take the trouble to bring the nec- 
essaries of life to our neighbor's doors; and the dis- 
tributing of provisions through a city is surely more 
satisfactorily accomplished when inspired by desire 
of gain than when by consideration for the happiness 
and comfort of our neighbor. In actual life there is 
little room for sentimental considerations; and there 
is little necessity for them in the present age. At 
no previous period in the history of the world have 
the conveniences and comforts of life been so great 
and so extensively diffused. 

The laborer of to-day enjoys comforts which were 



360 SOCIOLOGY 

unknown to kings a few centuries ago ; and with the 
facilities for education, with free libraries and art 
galleries, the road to learning has become to all, as 
nearly as possible, a royal road. There being no 
caste distinctions in our country, there is no position 
to which the humblest born may not aspire. The 
guerilla warfare of primitivism, it is true, is super- 
seded, and civilization places all in pleasanter condi- 
tions ; but a contest, none the less real because more 
refined, continues ; and under its domination men are 
compelled to attend to their own self-interest, to the 
exclusion of all others, with the same fidelity as in 
the earliest ages. 

In the course of evolution, self-sacrificing person- 
alities have flashed across the social sky. This is ad- 
mitted. But they are classed as meteors, whose er- 
ratic course cannot be predicted, or their recurrence 
counted on with certainty; so that they may be con- 
veniently eliminated from our data, without vitiating 
the result. No doubt their influence will have a cer- 
tain effect upon the surrounding phenomena, and 
their track may threaten destruction to many a time- 
honored custom; but as nothing long prevails which 
is not established in reason and confirmed in equity, 
we can look with complacency alike upon philan- 
thropic but mistaken attacks of the benevolent and 
the mercenary, and misleading assault of the 
charlatan. 

For there is no subject in which quackery and 
spurious sentiment is more common. Benevolence 
being a matter of universal interest, in which prince 
and peasant alike have an every-day experience, a 
premium is placed on its practical; and there are no 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 261 

end of Joseph Surfaces who seek to maintain a repu- 
tation for benevolence without incurring the expense 
of it. The time also is particularly favorable for the 
prosecution of such a purpose, as ''the schoolmaster 
is abroad," and each has obtained just that amount 
of knowledge which enables him to give an unhesi- 
tating opinion on social problems. Had such persons 
drunk more deeply of the Pierian spring, the force 
and freshness of their decisions would have been de- 
stroyed and they would have been landed in that 
abyss of doubt and indecision which is characteristic 
of those whose acquirements enable them to take cog- 
nizance not only of the proximate effects, but of the 
most distant consequences, of proposed reforms. 

This is the difference between the barroom orator, 
who will tell you most positively what ought to be 
done, and the statesman, who has considered a ques- 
tion in all its bearings, and in its relationship to the 
entire scheme of public policy, and is still undecided 
as to the most advisable course to pursue. No dog- 
matic opinion is possible to him who, with a trained 
understanding and an appreciation of the daily ac- 
cretions which our knowledge is receiving, ap- 
proaches a subject, not as a special pleader, but with 
the sole desire of ascertaining the truth and following 
wheresoever it leads. 

This, unfortunately, is too often not the spirit 
in which those who desire to renovate society ap- 
proach the task. However honest the intention of 
such may be in general (and of that I have no desire 
to offer an opinion), they usually start from a priori 
grounds, and immediately proceed to demonstrate 
how a proposed reform — usually a most superficial 



362 SOCIOLOGY 

one — would eliminate all the injustice of the world 
and herald the golden age. 

They have, as a rule, an exaggerated conception 
of the evils to be remedied, a very slight acquaintance 
with the subject, and a positive conviction that some 
single panacea which they advocate will be all the re- 
form that is required. 

Considering that there are before the world at 
present at least a dozen schemes for its remodeling 
and for the establishment of perfect justice, happi- 
ness, and contentment, and that the disciples of each 
scheme have no great confidence in the efficacy of any 
but their own, or any conviction of the honesty of the 
advocates of the most of the others — we may well be 
pardoned for subjecting all their places to the most 
rigid criticism before identifying ourselves with any 
of them. In fact, we are tempted to dub as empirics 
those who dilate on the diseases of the body social, 
and the simplicity of its cure by their patent decoc- 
tion. If it is diseased, no single remedy will suffice 
for its cure ; but those who have most carefully diag- 
nosed the sjrmptoms are apt to assert that these indi- 
cate only infantile complaints, which it will outgrow 
in the natural course of events, without the aid of 
noxious draughts or dangerous operations. 

They are strengthened in this opinion by the well- 
known fact that, since men first began to live in asso- 
ciation, the progress has been enormous, and the con- 
stant tendency is to establish higher standards of 
comfort. This, they are convinced, shows that the or- 
ganism is healthy; that its development is satisfac- 
tory; and that such changes as the socialist, the com- 
munist, the land nationalizer, and the "cooperator'* 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 263 

(in modern acceptation) would bring us, are neither 
necessary nor desirable. 

In the following pages I shall endeavor to show 
briefly the natural laws which govern men in asso- 
ciation; how they act and react on each other in such 
a way that interference with the existing order, so 
far from being beneficial to all, would frequently 
work injustice to the most deserving, for the benefit 
of the least valuable portion of hiunanity. I shall 
review and demonstrate the fallacy of leading '* re- 
forms" that have been proposed and advocated with 
all the fervor of those who aggrandize themselves by 
discovering for the masses the injustice which the 
latter suffer but are wholly unaware of imtil these 
are placed home by the brave-sounding words of the 
popular orator. 

There is no way in which cheap popularity is more 
easily won than by playing courtier to the crowd; but 
it is surely advisable that we occasionally let the 
truth have an airing. However unpleasant this may 
be, I am certain that it is a more substantial proof of 
friendship to indicate errors than to disguise them. 
A statement of the facts of the case and of their in- 
evitable consequences, a demonstration of the de- 
structive tendency of the unnatural interference with 
private rights, is urgently demanded, and is neces- 
sary for those whose minds have become so perme- 
ated with the conceived advantage of a certain plan 
that honor and honesty appear to them as if ready to 
be laid as a sacrifice on the altar. 

And if, in pursuance of this purpose, we find it 
impossible to avoid enunciating doctrines which must 
appear hard-hearted and unsympathetic, it must not 



264 SOCIOLOGY 

be forgotten that, in deducing conclusions from as- 
certained facts, we are unable to control them. How- 
ever much we might deplore certain laws of society 
which exist, we should never allow our individual 
feeling to blind us to their existence; but carefully 
repressing sentiment, and depending solely on our 
data, without fear or favor, we should uphold the 
true and expose the false conception of them. While 
doing so, we may be careful to state exactly the data 
upon which our notions of laws are based; so that in 
the event of an extension of our knowledge its in- 
fluence could be at once assimilated to the system. 
There is no subject in which more possibilities of 
extension exist, both on account of its comparative 
newness as a science and because of the plasticity of 
the units considered; and there is certainly none in 
which constant introspection is more necessary for 
getting at the actual truth. We must always keep 
before us the indubitable fact that in all sciences the 
errors due to the position of the observer must be 
taken into account, — and frequently indeed, as in 
astronomy, the same facts must be noted by observers 
thousands of miles apart, — so that from the results 
of two independent observations the inaccuracy may 
be reduced to the minimum. In no science is it more 
important that we should strenuously endeavor to 
eliminate our own personalities; and in none is it so 
difficult to take the result of the observations of 
others and, placing them side by side with our own, 
to arrive at the true state of the case. This is, of 
course, due to the fact that our own interests are 
usually involved in the answers which we give and 
that we have also inherited traditions which con- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 265 

tribute to our mental attitudes and determine the po- 
sitions which we assume in respect to every question. 
There is also the complementary source of error in 
the inaccuracy of our judgments of our fellow men. 
Just as we are, rarely do we, in our partiality, 
consider ourselves. Others are often a great deal 
better than we give them credit for — ^unless, indeed, 
when they happen to be particularly in accord with 
our opinions and sentiments; then we extend to them 
a part of the charity which we give to ourselves. By 
making an allowance fOr these factors, the impartial 
and educated man can approach to accuracy in his 
judgment of the laws which govern social Hfe. At 
any rate, he will have all the elements necessary for 
formulating such laws and for pronouncing a val- 
uable opinion upon all proposed reforms ; and while 
he will probably arrive at conclusions which will 
harmonize ill with the hopes of the enthusiast or the 
expectations roused by the agitator, he will be able 
to indicate the direction which improvement must 
take to be permanent and so to render a service to 
the best interests of society. This, though less ap- 
preciated by the majority, will be much more val- 
uable than all the vaporings of would-be reformers. 

II. The Units. 

If you ask a chemist to describe the nature of a 
certain substance, he seeks to reduce it to its ele- 
ments, and to give you the exact proportions in which 
these enter into its total. There is often, however, 
a residuum which defies his analysis, and which is 
represented by the percentage necessary to complete 



266 SOCIOLOGY 

his assumed total of parts. In like manner, when we 
undertake to describe society we must also reduce it 
to its elements, which are the individual, or units, of 
which it is composed. We shall also find a residuum 
which will not be so distinct as to be included under 
a definite head in our analysis, but which wiU require 
to be indicated in order to make up the total. The 
units of society, though characterized by a certain 
degree of sameness, are in reality exceedingly varied; 
but like other elements, they have exact combining 
affinities, to which they unconsciously have con- 
formed since they first began to live in association, 
and which are the essence of society's continuance. 

It is conceivable that, as originally constituted, the 
possibility of identity amongst the units was present; 
but the different circumstances by which they were 
surrounded, facilitating in the one case growth and 
development, and in the other stunting and dwarfing 
the natural possibilities, early introduced varieties. 
These would be intensified with the lapse of time and 
with the continuance of the more diversified environ- 
ments, which would necessarily ensue from the pro- 
gression of one and the stagnation of another. Even 
where the rates of development were not so far apart, 
there would be sufficient diversity amongst the sur- 
roundings to produce the distinct and irreconcilable 
personalities which we find amongst the inhabitants 
of the most limited areas, and which, to all outward 
appearance, have been subjected to the same 
influences. 

Our conceptions of right and wrong are largely 
the result of the environment in which we are bound; 
and our conduct in the minor affairs of life wiU be 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 267 

decided in the main by our position in the social scale, 
which gives boundaries to our knowledge, and regu- 
lates the canons to which we submit our actions. 

Antecedents, training, and environment form, in- 
deed, the triple cord which bind men. They are the 
factors which mold their lives and color their char- 
acters, and they are connected in such indissoluble 
bonds that when we know the first we can with a 
great degree of certainty foretell the other two. Not 
only so, but if we could know the complete history 
of any one individual we should know the complete 
history of the universe. The complete history would 
involve, of course, not merely the record of his life 
since birth, but all the causes which, since the earliest 
time, have contributed to his production. Each is 
but the resultant of a long series of causes, linked 
inextricably with the causes which have been mold- 
ing the other entities and extending into a complete 
chain, embracing all the creation a change in any 
part of which would be represented by an entirely 
different present. If effect follows upon cause, the 
present is the only possible outcome of the past; and 
the future is already decided by the present. Indi- 
vidually and collectively, therefore, we are dissolubly 
linked to the past, inheriting in the aggregate the 
whole of its virtues and of its vices, its material and 
physical and mental progress. Each individual, how- 
ever, possesses distinct traits, he having been sub- 
jected only to a small portion of the entire circum- 
stances which represent human experiences. Since 
conclusions must take this into account, they are far 
from being comprehensive. 

It is not difficult to understand how views so dis- 



268 SOCIOLOGY 

similar are reached on the same subject by appar- 
ently equally educated and equally intelligent and 
fair-minded men. It is owing to the mental or social 
bias from which even those desirous of being impar- 
tial cannot entirely emancipate theselves. This is 
possibly inherited, and is strengthened by class 
prejudices, which prevent them from dissociating 
themselves from their immediate interests and ob- 
taining an impersonal view of the subject considered. 
Thus, when a certain subject recommends itself pri- 
marily to any mind for study, it is apt to assume to 
that mind proportions entirely at variance with its 
intrinsic importance. The mental equilibrium is dis- 
turbed; the subject becomes a sort of Aaron's rod, 
and gradually swallows up all others; and to the mind 
thus distorted, it seems the one important factor to 
the proper understanding of life. Its promulgation 
becomes a solemn duty, and it is confidently expected 
that the acceptance of it by humanity at large as a 
cardinal article of faith will be the precursor of the 
golden age. 

Nearly all proposed social reforms emanate from 
martyrs to single ideas, the undue preponderance in 
their minds of the one train of thought preventing 
the other factors receiving such consideration as 
their importance demands ; and thus the whole reno- 
vation of society is made to appear to depend upon 
the alteration of some relatively unimportant detail. 
The exponents of marvelous theories for not only the 
preservation of life but also the amelioration of its 
least desirable features, are the residuum which defy 
our analysis of society. They are not amenable to 
the ordinary rules of logic, and their enthusiasm over 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 269 

their pet project blinds them, when they are honest, 
to the counteracting disadvantages which would ac- 
company their proposed change, which too often 
could only be brought about by the violation of every 
principle upon which we depend for the permanancy 
of social combination. 

As each new theory is propounded, the injustice 
of present conditions exemplified, and the efficiency 
of the proposed remedy demonstrated, we can only 
marvel how our poor forefathers survived in igno- 
rance of their hard lot, and assume that their con- 
tented and happy existence was owing to the absence 
of the geniuses who in modern days are called social 
reformers. 

Leaving this residuum, we find that although we 
cannot proclaim identity amongst our units, there are 
very close similarities and very cogent reasons for 
supposing that in their primal instincts and impulses, 
and in their ultimate desires, all men are equal. That 
their actions are so dissimilar in apparently similar 
circumstances, is due solely to the difference of in- 
herited qualities, modified or intensified, as the case 
may be, by their environments. The importance of 
these two factors cannot be overestimated, and yet 
they can scarcely be correctly ascertained. 

Despite the painstaking and exhaustive re- 
searches of the great German scientist Weismann 
into the question of heredity, the subject is still beset 
with difficulties, and is scarcely capable of definite- 
ness. His investigations have resulted in the germ 
plasm theory, from which it would appear that the 
germ is continuous and unmodifiable, and is transmit- 
ted with aU its racial distinctions from sire to son; 



270 SOCIOLOGY 

that it is impossible for variations due to environ- 
ments to be so assimilated as to be transmitted. 
There is a recognition of the possibility of the fusion 
of the two germ plasms, and of a consequent modifi- 
cation resulting; but it surely must be granted that 
if the environments through successive generations 
have not called for the exercise of qualities which 
might exist in the original plasm, while other require- 
ments have induced in the individual the exercise of 
different powers, the dormancy in the one case and 
the activity in the other would lead ultimately to a 
modification of the inherited proclivities. 

On no other assumption can we account for the 
aptitude which is frequently shown by children for 
the class of work to which their immediate ancestors 
have been accustomed, as it certainly has not been 
transmitted from a long past, when the very condi- 
tions of life were incompatible with the exercise of 
such qualities. If such is not the case, and if, as the 
law of heredity seems to establish, out of a bad and 
improvident stock, no amount of training, no dura- 
tion of time will ever eradicate the undesirable and 
unamiable qualities, how can we explain the pro- 
digious changes which have taken place in man's na- 
ture? How can we account for progression at all if, 
with each generation, we start precisely with the 
same original conditions and tendencies, and have to 
undergo the same slow course of elimination and im- 
provement? If permanent improvement is impos- 
sible, and our task, like that of Sisjrphus, is a never- 
ending and ever-beginning one, are we justified in 
making the conditions of present life such as shall 
ensure our successors having to grapple with the 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 273 

same never-ending problems ? The truth seems to be 
that the environment which has led to modifications 
in individual cases is likely to be experienced by the 
succeeding generations to an equal if not greater ex- 
tent; so that if the environments and conditions of 
life were unaltered, men would necessarily remain 
identical and stationary. 

With the slowly envolving conditions, a corre- 
sponding evolution takes place. It is the growth of 
population that is the principal incentive to progress ; 
because as the world is called upon to support the 
increasing numbers, man is forced to consider how 
he can best aid nature in responding to the demand, 
and the knowledge thus acquired is the origin of all 
advancement. Once started on the road of progress, 
men's wants increase in volume and in refinement, 
and men's mental powers are developed; for there 
is nothing so effective as necessity for insuring 
invention and improvement. 

That we in this age occupy a ground so much in 
advance of that held by the preceding, is not due to 
any mental superiority among the existent units of 
society, but is the consequence of the very rich lega- 
cies which we have inherited from the former in- 
habitants of the earth — legacies which have been 
gradually growing in volume and value through the 
centiu'ies, and which we will pass on to posterity with 
our added experience. These legacies consist of ac- 
cmnulated data, extended observation, careful ex- 
periment, and, where not actually established beyond 
doubt, suggestive theories which may be confirmed 
or corrected by us in our subsequent investigations. 

We take up the skein where the most advanced of 



272 SOCIOLOGY 

our predecessors have left it, with the task of unrav- 
eling it greatly simplified by their efforts. If we for 
a moment consider what our position would be were 
it possible for each generation as it passed away to 
carry with it the knowledge it had acquired, and to 
leave its successors to collect for themselves all data, 
make all the necessary experiments, and undertake 
all investigation de novo, we should at once realize 
that, notwithstanding man's mental superiority, he 
would never progress beyond the rudest state of bar- 
barism. It is in his power to transmit to posterity 
the accumulated experience on which the continuity 
of development depends, and if our present knowl- 
edge were to be destroyed by a vandal incursion, to 
restore it would take centuries, even with the power 
of transmission. Our vantage ground is inheritance; 
and it is therefore impossible to overestimate the im- 
portance of mental and moral characteristics in con- 
nection with social science. These, being the product 
of centuries of growth, and being concerned with all 
the questions pertaining to human life and destiny, 
naturally form a mental boundary for each individ- 
ual, which it is highly probable he personally has 
very little power to control or to alter. 

The conclusions at which different individuals 
will arrive on the same subject, and with apparently 
the same information, are often very different; but 
an approximation can be made by taking into ac- 
count the country inhabited, its moral standard, and 
intellectual attainments, together with the position 
of the individual, which will indicate his general con- 
formity or want of conformity to the leading canons 
of the society in which he exists and of the minor 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 273 

circle within which his personal interests are 
confined. 

The primal instinct we can always rely on with 
absolute certainty as being present in all men; and 
that is self-preservation. This may now-a-days be 
called more correctly self-interest, because it is 
usually our material welfare which has to be con- 
served, instead of the preservation of our existence. 
This principle gives color to all human action; and 
that the results are so varied, is due to the different 
answers which each gives to the question of what 
will best serve his interests. All our actions, let 
them appear involuntary or otherwise, are in reality 
the natural outcome of our experience. In some 
cases the frequency with which like circumstances 
have occurred gives an appearance of spontaneity to 
conduct, while in others the rarity makes reflection 
imperative; but in all, comparisons and conclusions 
precede action, however involuntary they may seem. 

Practically, therefore, the question which each 
answers before taking action is, what is the most ad- 
visable method of conserving his own best interest ? 
And the different methods adopted for accomplish- 
ing this, the first end of civilized man, will depend 
entirely on inheritance, training, and experience, — 
the latter being probably a necessary accompaniment 
of the two former. 

There are, however, many cases in which we 
might, without great risk to our reputation, hazard 
a definite prediction as to how, in given circum- 
stances, men would act. For instance, if we should 
see a man passing along a railway track and a loco- 
motive coming from the opposite direction on the 



2U SOCIOLOGY 

same line, we might with safety predict that the law 
of self-preservation would ensure him immediately 
to leave the track. 

In one such case out of ten thousand we might 
find our prediction falsified; but on investigation we 
should discover that there was a factor in that par- 
ticular case which is not normal in human beings, 
and which, therefore, our generalization did not 
cover. It might be due to a physical defect, such as 
the loss of sight. It might be due to a mental defect, 
which occasionally manifests itself by a very er- 
roneous conception of the nature of things. Or the 
abnormal element might be a sociological one, such 
as a feeling of being out of harmony with the rest of 
society, or a sense of unjust treatment or of un- 
merited obloquy. In whatever way, however, the 
abnormality was explained, it would not affect the 
validity of our statement as to the impulses and con- 
sequent actions which in ordinary circumstances 
would follow from the approach of the train. 

It is therefore our ability to ascertain all the fac- 
tors of the case that will determine the measure of 
our accuracy, as the primal motive in men so identi- 
cal and is modified only by the evolutions of the social 
instincts. Those in whom it is least apparent are 
usually the most cultured and refined; and its dor- 
mancy in their case is due to the substitution of a 
higher ideal than the merely personal. 

As civilization reaches higher and still higher 
levels, it ceases to be evidenced at all in the grosser 
forms, because the conditions are so changed; and so 
far from the struggle of the many being for mere 
existence it is only for the obtaining of the greatest 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 275 

pleasure and happiness that life can afford. This 
becomes the one end of existence, however different 
the means for effecting it may be. Examples ap- 
parently irreconcilable with this dictum may easily 
be given; but they are only apparently so, for in 
reality their seeming incompatibility is due to our 
limited knowledge of the whole facts of the case. 
Many sensitive and heroic men there are who would 
suffer less by immolating themselves for the benefit 
of a number of their fellows than they would suffer 
by allowing all that might be saved by their self- 
sacrifice to perish. Enthusiasm and the strong con- 
sciousness of the rectitude of their cause and of the 
importance of its teaching to humanity may inspire 
martyrs to bear the most exquisite refinements of 
torture which the perverted ingenuity of man can 
invent; and the generous and noble natures may act 
in a manner which cannot be reconciled by the more 
phlegmatic as in keeping with this rule. 

The explanation is that it is the different concep- 
tions of what constitutes happiness that is animating 
them. With many, the respect and esteem of their 
fellow men is more essential to their happiness and 
enjoyment than any acquirements of fortune, or any 
escaping of personal danger, or even any consistency 
in action. Others there are, who pursue their own 
career uninfluenced by praise, undeterred by blame, 
only gratified by accomplishing their own ends, and 
careless who may suffer, so that they succeed. 

The social units, therefore, although identical in 
primal instincts and motives and in the ends which 
they have in view, vary in their actions according to 
different conceptions of the best means of furthering 



276 SOCIOLOGY 

these identical objects. The different conceptions 
originate not in any original, inherent variety, but in 
the different experiences of the units, owing to their 
infinitely varied surroundings. The difference of en- 
vironment has divided men so widely that they have 
appeared to naturalists not varieties of a single spe- 
cies, but distinct species, different in color, in stature, 
in mental power, and in moral capability. And while 
in its extremes it has done this, in its more limited 
operation it has established in one community classes 
sharply divided from each other, with different tra- 
ditions, different and irreconcilable interests, and a 
different standard for guiding their actions, each 
class with a jealous eye watches the other, envying 
that which appears to give it a precedence, or an ad- 
vantage, to such an extent that, leaving the residuum 
out of consideration, we can with a fair claim to 
accuracy foretell what course will be pursued under 
given circumstances by individuals, if we possess 
some particulars of their antecedents. 

This does not mean that the characteristics and 
tendencies accompanying any station in life are in- 
variable, but that they are so generally consistent 
that the exception may be taken as proving the rule. 
Temperance would not long continue in the brothel, 
nor healthy views of life in the harem. 

There is another aspect of the question of ante- 
cedents and inheritance which in civilized life is most 
important, and which lends itself to little specula- 
tion. That is the accumulation of material wealth 
which ancestors may have acquired in fierce compe- 
tition and bequeathed to their immediate successors. 
This gives the latter such an advantage in the social 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 277 

state that they may almost be considered to have it 
in their power to give the less fortunate permission 
to exist. Indeed, to such an extent is this the case 
that it sometimes appears as if, by some right divine 
they were put into possession of the indispensible 
necessaries of life of the many to use these rightly or 
wrongly at their pleasure. 

Without the recognition of such a right of trans- 
fer, there would be little stimulant to the exercise of 
our best powers. It is clearly and indispensably nec- 
essary that such right be recognized, as its absence 
would destroy progress by causing investigation and 
experiments to cease. Without that right, men would 
languish and approximate to that existence which 
has always characterized the Eastern nations, which 
so early reached a high point in civilization and re- 
finement, but which, owing to the want of incentive 
and security, lacked the power requisite to carry 
them over the dead center, and have ever since 
remained stationary. 

The present inheritance of our race is developed 
in physical, mental, and moral power, a vast accumu- 
lation of knowledge, and its practical application to 
the affairs of daily life. This places the necessaries 
of Life within the reach of all, and offers the luxuries 
and refinements to the most. To some it gives as a 
start and a precedence the results of the superiority 
of their stock. It thus accentuates the natural in- 
equality of man, and arouses in the breasts of the 
superficial a keen sense of injustice and a desire to 
renovate society and to envolve a juster social order. 

The natural facts of the case are often overlooked, 
and proposals subversive of the best interests of so- 



278 SOCIOLOGY 

ciety are freely advocated. Impossible Utopias are 
constructed in which human nature is assumed to be 
divine, and the natural discontent of man is intensi- 
fied and directed. Reason may cry from the house 
tops to would-be reformers, but they will be deaf to 
her voice, as likewise will be their dupes. They will 
not recognize that not only is the struggle for exist- 
ence a necessary one, but that to it is to be accredited 
the rapidity of human progress, and that its cessation 
would produce an apathy and indifference to the 
affairs of life which would be much worse than the 
struggle where men meet each other with their tal- 
ents sharpened and their activities alert for the 
slightest advantage which they can obtain. The re- 
forms which would eliminate this struggle would 
arrest mental development, destroy self-reliance, and 
reduce men to the merest automatons. 



III. The Combinations. 

Nearly all writers assume a pre-social state; but 
while this may be a convenient figment for the basing 
of our arguments as to what man's rights would be 
under such conditions, it is scarcely conceivable that 
such a state ever really existed except in the 
imagination. 

Let us accept either the biblical or the scientific 
explanation of our origin, and we will alike conclude 
that man was never the solitary being which this 
state would imply. At first, of course, his social in- 
stincts would be confined by a very narrow area; but 
yet, both by duration and by nature, they would be 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 279 

different from mere animal association and would be 
entitled to be considered social. 

The grouping of different families into a confed- 
eracy would be, in the early ages of the world, a 
natural consequence of the realization of the fact that 
their united strength would present a more effective 
protection against powerful beasts, and also a recog- 
nition by comparatively weak companies of shep- 
herds that they would not be secure in their flocks 
and herds unless they should increase their numeri- 
cal strength. This cooperation for protection 
against external foes could exist only by an agree- 
ment among the individuals associating, to respect 
the rights of the members of their league; so that 
from the very earliest time a few of the most funda- 
mental principles of all government would be 
practiced. 

The first and most important of these would be 
the granting of equal freedom to all members of the 
combination. This freedom would, of course, be 
different from the freedom possible in any assumed 
state of nature. In a natural state, man would be ab- 
solutely free; not bound by any ties to recognize the 
effects of his conduct on others; having in his own 
person an inalienable claim to all the produce of the 
earth that he might be strong enough to secure for 
himself. And as each would have equal rights, con- 
stant collisions and warfare would prevail. 

Men would have been Ishmaels, with their hand 
against every man's, and every man's against them; 
their only duty being to sustain their own existence 
at all costs, and against all creatures. When, how- 
ever, men associate for mutual advantages, they can 



380 SOCIOLOGY 

only do so by foregoing some of their natural rights. 

I do not suppose that at first they met and made a 
definite contract as to what they would give up and 
what retain; this would be gradually agreed to as the 
necessities of the case would arise, and more complex 
relationships would ensue. But they certainly would 
have to agree to recognize their neighbor's rights as 
being equal to their own, and their own as being 
perfect freedom so far as it did not conflict with the 
rights of others. Very early, too, a central power 
would exist, upon which would devolve the duty of 
seeing that the weaker members of the federation 
obtained their just rights; and laws would soon be 
enacted — ^laws in the legal sense, and with means of 
enforcing conformity to them and of punishing 
infringements. 

These laws, restricting the natural tendencies of 
the members, when erratic, would give greater defi- 
niteness to social principles. The operation of per- 
sonal peculiarities would be repressed, as the great 
bulk of the inhabitants of any given society may be 
depended on to conform generally to legal enact- 
ments, even to the abandonment of undesirable traits. 

Association, being accompanied by the right to 
freedom, would also require the recognition of the 
inviolability of property. The articles so considered 
in early times might be of no great consequence — 
such as articles of adornment, and weapons; but when 
men began to be tillers of the soil as well as keepers 
of flocks and herds, property rights would come to be 
of greater importance. When a community had set- 
tled on a certain tract, if the right to continue in oc- 
cupancy had been in any way arbitrary, so far as the 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 281 

society in possession of the district was concerned 
cultivation would have been impossible, because what 
one sowed another might have reaped. Fixity of 
tenure may be assumed, therefore, as characterizing 
this state, with certain duties to the head of it, in 
return for protection. The right also to labor in 
whatever manner might be congenial would be per- 
mitted. Necessarily there would be joined to the 
right protection in the enjoyment of the fruits 
thereof. This enjoyment might consist in an inmae- 
diate consumption of the products or in their preser- 
vation, or in their transfer to others ; but in no matter 
what form the individual elected to use them, his 
right, so long as not inimical to the general interests, 
would have to be held inviolate. Progress would be 
exactly proportioned to the sacredness with which 
property and personal rights were observed. 

From these principles of what must admitted to 
be simple justice, has flowed all progress. Had man- 
kind in general not concurred in maintaining them, 
our bridges would not have been built, our canals 
would not have been excavated, our railways would 
not have been constructed, our steamboats would not 
have been built, our manufactories would not have 
been established, nor would our colleges have been 
endowed. On the other hand, their continuance gives 
such a precedence to those in whom the desire of ac- 
cumulation is e:ffectively developed as to give them 
the control of the essentials of existence and estab- 
lish that form of poverty which peculiarly distin- 
guishes civilization, and which makes life itself, to a 
large majority of mankind, depend upon the consent 
of a few. 



282 SOCIOLOGY 

That this characteristic of civilization is an 
inevitable consequence of the first and most in- 
dispensable condition of its permanency, a very 
slight review of the circumstances will demonstrate. 
The differentiation of employments which would oc- 
cur immediately after primal association would fol- 
low from an intuitive perception of the fact that the 
exertion of an individual, when confined to a special 
work, would be more productive than if a turn was 
taken at all the occupations necessary to a social 
existence. As human wants are not in one direction, 
this could be taken advantage of only by a mutual 
agreement to exchange the products in proportion to 
their values. Their values would necessarily at first 
be measured by the time required to produce them; 
for as all the various labors engaged in would be 
equally essential to the existence of the community, 
each would have to be paid in the quantity of goods 
desired that could be produced in an equal time with 
those offered in exchange, or he would not con- 
fine himself to a single relatively unremunerative 
emplojnnent. 

The work in which each would engage, when 
all was of equal importance, would depend upon 
immediate conditions; but it would not be long 
until tastes and aptitudes would make their appear- 
ance, and would lead to modifications of the primal 
equality. Two occupied at the same work would be 
discovered to produce different quantities in the 
same time ; so that the most expert would be able to 
command for a portion of his time as much as the 
other for his whole time. And thus he could either 
enjoy much leisure or acquire a surplus of goods for 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 283 

future necessities. The introduction of a system of 
exchange other than the barter of the actual products 
of labor would encourage laborers to occupy their 
time in the accumulation of reserves, rather than in 
the enjoying of the leisure to which their superiority 
entitled them; and these reserves, as civilization be- 
came more complex, would assume ever-increasing 
importance. But they would not alter the fact that 
in social life the natural tendency is for all labor to 
exchange on the basis of the production of the least 
effective worker at each employment; and every de- 
gree of superiority above this minimum receives its 
proportional return. 

Not only does the exchange value of all employ- 
ments tend to the minimum of the least production, 
but it also tends to equality in each. The mere state- 
ment of the first fact assumes its acceptance ; but the 
second is not so self-evident, and will require some 
illustration. There does not, at first sight, appear 
much equality or tendency to equality between the 
fee of a specialist in any profession and the wages of 
an unskilled laborer. But this is owing to the factors 
of the problem being obscured by the complex condi- 
tions of modern life ; so that an analysis of the causes 
of one man's labors exchanged for the products of 
the labor of a number becomes indispensable. 

In the first place, then, we shall find that the labor 
commanding the least value is that which can be 
most readily engaged in. Thus the unskilled laborer 
requires no expensive training to qualify him for 
his task. He is self-supporting from a very early 
age, and his relative success in comparison with those 
in his own sphere is assured; for as there are no 



284 SOCIOLOGY 

heights to which he is likely to attain, so there are 
few depths to which he can descend. Now, if there 
are two unskilled employments rated at different 
values, we shall find that the more highly rated is 
disagreeable or dangerous, and that the increased 
premium just balances its undesirability. Were it 
otherwise, more would compete for employment in 
it, and they would so reduce the wages to the normal 
standard. The skilled artisan is rated on a higher 
basis because his labor requires a lengthened appren- 
ticeship and a more skillful treatment ; and did it not 
hold out the prospect of future compensatory bene- 
fits, no one would go to the trouble and expense of 
acquiring the necessary skill or consult to the length- 
ened dependence on the kindness of others which it 
entails. 

In the professional man's case, the probationary 
period is still greater, the expense of education more, 
-and the natural qualities, if success is to be secured, 
must be of a much higher order; for it cannot be de- 
nied that the number of genuine successes in the 
higher callings are few in comparison with the en- 
tries, and that those who are destined for the rank 
and file are in a much worse position than the trades- 
man. A fortune has been spent in their education 
and training; they are expected to maintain a very 
expensive position, and the returns for their services 
are not greater than — sometimes not equal to — those 
of the best in the more cheaply rated employments. 

The importance of these considerations will be 
admitted; and when the difficulty experienced in en- 
tering particular employments is recognized, the spe- 
cial qualities necessary for exceptional success are 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 285 

taken into account, and the inherent agreeableness, 
unpleasantness, or risk is considered we shall arrive 
at the conclusion that the varying returns are in real- 
ity more nearly equal than they are generally ac- 
counted. No argument will be required to convince 
one that if the expenses of training for all business 
were identical, the same qualities necessary in all, 
and the chances of success equal in all, the reward 
would be equal; and the cogent corollary is that when 
the differences indicated are allowed for, the rewards 
are in all cases practically equal. The third-rate pro- 
fessional man earns no more than— if as much as — 
the first-class artisan; and the extra emoluments of 
those who secure the leading positions in his profes- 
sion are simply the returns for extra skill and com- 
pensation for extra expenses, with perhaps a small 
percentage for the confidence in their own powers, 
which induced them to enter upon a profession num- 
bering considerably more failures than successes 
amongst its members. 

This, it may be said, does not take sufficient 
cognizance to the chances to which many apparently 
owe their success, rather than to any intrinsic merit ; 
but in an advanced civilization it is impossible to de- 
prive individuals of the accidental advantages of po- 
sition and claim resting more on the merits of friends 
than on their own. The man of no ability, however, 
no matter what his original opportunities may have 
been, will not for long remain ahead of the better 
qualified; and in a country v/here there is a constant 
blending of classes, the highest positions being alike 
open to all, and the performance of duty with fidelity 
and capacity being the sole requisite, he who pos- 



286 SOCIOLOGY 

sesses genuine qualifications will find a market for 
them. The discernment of the world is generally 
fairly correct; and progress is not due to a systematic 
selection of those least adapted for the places of 
power. 

The units of any society therefore combine under 
certain definite and well understood social laws, 
which restrict natural tendencies that would be 
inimical to the general welfare of the combination. 

These restrictions at first confine themselves ex- 
clusively to the most palpably necessary conditions 
of the permanency of association, such as individual 
liberty limited only by recognition of equal liberty in 
the other members, the inviolability of personal prop- 
erty; and from an early date the agreement to con- 
cede a right to continuation of occupancy in land. 

The units start equal; but being placed in differ- 
ent situations, they develop in unequal degrees. 
Some, being careless and improvident, become de- 
pendent upon the more thrifty members of the com- 
munity and of necessity sell their birthright for the 
metaphorical mess of pottage. While as a whole, 
the aggregate would be animated by a single purpose 
on questions concerning their rights, in opposition to 
the rights of other aggregates, there would be ques- 
tions of internal policy upon which they would take 
the most diverse views. The community, in short, 
would be split up into separate parts; and the rights 
of the part to which the individual belonged, in con- 
tradistinction to the rights of other parts, would ap- 
pear to him the most essential consideration. These 
class distinctions would distort judgment, and the 
apparent inequity of lots would foster discontent. 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 387 

The inexorable laws owing to which they exist being 
little understood, attempts in their nature ineffectual 
would be made to minimize the seemingly harsh 
effects. 

So long as man remains essentially the creature 
he is, failure must follow all such efforts; for ma- 
terial affairs move in such a cycle that the reduction 
of pressm^e in one direction but increases it in an- 
other, and nothing really beneficial can be secured by 
attempting a revolution in the moral nature of man. 
For with his present distinctive traits no essentially 
different form of aggregation is possible. It is, in- 
deed, only in the moral improvement of men that we 
can look for regeneration; and if a time should dawn 
when all should realize that they are their brothers' 
keepers, the effect on life would be incalculable. No 
longer would men pursue their own careers in entire 
oblivion of the consequences upon others, but a new 
spirit, grander than anything conceived of by the 
loftiest chivalry, would prevail; the most austere fea- 
tures of life would be softened, and the time would 
probably not be far distant when ** earth would reach 
its earthly best." 

We are told that London is no poorer today, be- 
cause of the great fire of 1666, nor Chicago because of 
that of 1871 — ^both of which statements are probably 
accurate. The effects of these disasters were imme- 
diate, and they were repaired by the immediate hard- 
ships, privations, and suffering of the people living 
in those years. During the replacing of the material 
wealth which had been destroyed, there were less 
goods available for consumption; and consequently, 
there was for a year or two a lowered standard of 



288 SOCIOLOGY 

comfort and convenience; but this, of coiu-se, natu- 
rally and quickly disappeared. It is interesting to 
note, however, that these catastrophes which de- 
stroyed for a time the material inequality of men, 
did not do this permanently; and that out of them, 
men of enterprise and capacity made fortune rapidly, 
and these men soon left the less capable far behind. 
The poverty, sin, and misery which prevail are 
sufficiently intense to arouse in the hearts of all sin- 
cere persons a desire to alleviate them; but this can 
never be done by a carping criticism of existing in- 
stitutions. Let us look at the real facts of the case, 
and, discarding sentimental considerations, endeavor 
to see in what direction the regeneration of mankind 
may be looked for. 

This will be a much more useful employment of 
our time than drawing doleful comparisons of the ex- 
tremes to which civilized society gravitates, and as- 
serting an equality of rights and powers which exists 
only in the imagination. We shall then realize that, 
considering the origin of our race, the basis upon 
which just social institutions are possible to be 
erected, and the gradual and natural evolution of ex- 
isting conditions, it is only to the superficial that 
inequality will be apparent. 

Mankind has evolved very slowly, and has ex- 
tended over the whole cultivatable portion of the 
globe. In its course of development, new difficulties 
have had constantly to be overcome, and new dangers 
faced; and with each additional experience a modify- 
ing conception of life and duty has been introduced. 
It is to the extension of the finer conception of human 
destiny that we must ever look for any permanent 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 289 

improvement in the lot of humanity in general; but 
its rapid extension is impeded by the increasing dens- 
ity of population, which more than keeps pace with 
the food supply in the old countries, and so compels 
that strenuous competition for the means of exist- 
ence which is incompatible with the practical accept- 
ance of the highest teaching. 

The salvation of the man, therefore, appears to 
consist in the restricting of population, which can 
be accomplished in several ways, but must be done in 
some way; and every year, as it rolls along, brings the 
question more within the practical limit. 

Intense competition, with the relentless crushing 
of those least equipped for the struggle, will check 
the numbers, while it contributes to progress; but 
the same end may be attained in a more desirable 
manner by elevating the standard of comfort 
amongst mankind, so that a natural barrier to undue 
increase will be established. 

The tendency seems to be toward a voluntary ac- 
ceptance of this method; and an improvement in the 
general material welfare of mankind will be in exact 
proportion to its adoption, which is the only panacea 
for poverty. 

IV. Equality. 

Liberty, equality, fraternity, are the shibboleths 
of popular democracy, and are supposed to express 
the three essentials of happy and contented exist- 
ence. Liberty is a relative term, its interpretation 
depending upon the progress which men have made 
in the arts of civilization; and where this is con- 



290 SOCIOLOGY 

siderable, the unrestrained freedom of barbarism 
would not be liberty, but license. In a state of re- 
finement, true liberty consists quite as much in 
respecting the rights of others as in asserting our 
own. 

A general, undue preponderance of the latter 
practice would be destructive of society, and would 
be altogether incompatible with a continued belief 
in the brotherhood of man, which is a conception of 
advanced ethical attainments popularized by the 
democratic orator. 

That all three, when viewed from a given stand- 
point, express incontrovertible truths, must be ad- 
mitted; but when the standpoint required to be 
assumed is inconsistent with the present position 
of man or is inaccurate in regard to many im- 
portant aspects of his life, their practical value is 
sensibly diminished. All are entitled to the fullest 
liberty that the well-being of the other units of 
society will permit; and if all had attained the moral 
elevation necessary for the acceptance, in its entirety 
of the doctrine of fraternity, with all its correspond- 
ing duties and responsibilities, it might, conceivably, 
be advantageous; but more probably it would be 
destructive of all enterprise. 

However, we need not investigate what the conse- 
quence would be, because its adoption would mean 
such a revolution of human nature as we are not 
justified in anticipating on this side of the bourn. 
Religion and science are at one in asserting that all 
men are of one flesh and blood; but so, too, in the 
opinion of the most profound scientists, is the rest 
of the animal creation. But it does not therefore 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 291 

follow that they are all equal. Shylock, in declaring 
the equality of Jews and Christians asks, "Hath 
not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affec- 
tions, passions, fed with the same food, hurt with the 
same weapon, subject to the same diseases, healed by 
the same means, warmed and cooled by the same 
winter and summer ? ' ' 

If these constitute equality, then not only all 
humanity but the higher types of the animal crea- 
tion as well, are equal, both in these and in their 
ultimate relations to the physical laws of the uni- 
verse. It would, however, be a far too hasty general- 
ization to assume that because in these very 
important essentials they are equal, they must or can 
be equal throughout; in fact such an assumption 
carries with it its own refutation. 

We know that whatever may have been the 
capacity for equality "in the beginning,'' no two 
human beings ever have been, nor in the decrees of 
nature ever can be, circumstanced exactly alike; so 
that infinite variety is insured, not only in physical 
but also in mental and moral capabilities of men; and 
each is, of necessity, a distinct personality. Too 
much stress cannot be laid upon the fact, which is as 
true in regard to the peer as to peasant, that the 
positions which we to-day occupy in the world have 
been determined by the forces to which we owe our 
being, and the limitations by which we have been 
surrounded; and we have had just as much control 
over these as a puppet has over the showman. None 
of us has had the opportunity for exercising any 
selection as to either the country in which we should 
be born or the position which we should occupy in 



392 SOCIOLOGY 

life. Had we been consulted in the matter, and had 
there been, by some superhuman means, a knowledge 
of the different conditions conveyed to us, it is not 
likely that our careers would have been the same; but 
so long as effect follows cause, so long must we be 
content with our lot, however arbitrary and unjust it 
may, at first sight, appear 

It must be admitted that it does at first appear 
both arbitrary and unjust that a large portion of 
humanity should be doomed, through no fault of their 
own, to be hewers of wood and drawers of water, 
while a small percentage, without exertion or, ap- 
parently, any moral, mental, or physical superiority, 
should be Fortune ^s favorites, and should possess all 
the luxuries and conveniences which that fickle 
dame can confer. No wonder if this aspect of the 
case, when fixed upon by those modern dreamers of 
dreams and seers of visions, to the exclusion of the 
other factors in the problem of life, gives them an 
exaggerated and distorted view of the lots of human- 
ity, and leads them to emulate the wisdom of the 
grumbling clown who conceived that there was some- 
thing wrong which he could set right. 

A partial view of human life does not enable us 
to see any harmony or equity therein, but seems to 
induce the belief that mortal man is more just than 
God, or else such suffering as everywhere abounds 
would never be permitted to continue in the universe. 

The actions of many modern reformers seem to 
imply a conviction that if they had been taken behind 
the scenes and consulted about the creation, they 
could have given some hints which would have in- 
sured a juster and nobler social order; for there is 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 293 

scarcely any existing institution with which they do 
not find fault; and as all institutions are the 
necessary evolutions of the laws which were or- 
dained to govern the world, it follows that the im- 
perfections now discovered are directly due to 
primary arrangements, being wrong. We should 
never know half the reasons there are for discontent, 
had we not a few demagogues to make them a special 
study; and as each is able to suggest some improve- 
ment on the original design, it is evident that from 
their point of view, at any rate, it was far from 
perfect. 

One remedy for the existing inequity is to level 
all ranks, and to communize all property; for Jack, 
being as good as his master, must become his equal 
in station and in fortune. The distinction between 
mine and thine, which from the dawn of civilization 
down to the present have been as a principle held 
inviolate, is to be ruthlessly swept away; and the 
nineteenth century is to see the revival of the good 
old rule — the simple plan — 

"That they shall take who have the power. 
And they shall keep who can." 

By this means, all traces of poverty, with its con- 
comitant misery, will be removed from the world; 
and as by the stroke of some mighty magician's 
wand, all external inequalities will be abolished. 

Were it possible to give effect to these day- 
dreams, and to establish this much-lauded Utopia, 
the succeeding few months would exceed in crimin- 
ality, suffering, and vice all the previous records of 
humanity. A power would be placed in the hands of 



294 SOCIOLOGY 

those unaccustomed to its use; the greatest abuses 
would prevail; and earth, so far from becoming the 
promised Paradise, would be a Pandemonium. 

The equality which would result from establish- 
ing a sameness in externals would of necessity be 
of short duration. The natural powers of men 
would reassert themselves; and as progression and 
development go on unceasingly, men would quickly 
find their levels again; and in a couple of years or 
two, the fittest would be carried to the surface, and 
would become supreme. If we lived in India, or 
some other Oriental country, where the accident 
of birth fixed for all time our position and vocation 
in Ufe, — where the rigid distinctions of caste divide 
the various classes from each other, and preclude 
the possibility of advancement in life, no matter 
what the ability, we could see a substantial reason 
for discontent, and could understand and sympathize 
with an agitation for the removal of ^'birth's invid- 
ious bar." Living, however, as we do, in a country 
where the most absolute freedom consistent with the 
rights of others is our birthright, where every call- 
ing and employment, so far as our laws and customs 
are concerned, is open to all citizens, and the only 
qualification really essential to success is ability, dis- 
content with our social system is inexplicable, and 
really means the jealousy which small minds ex- 
perience at the success of the more deserving. 
Under existing conditions, the highest offices in the 
country are open to the most humbly born; and that 
they are not more frequently occupied by such, is 
due not to any social barrier, but to their relative 
capacity. 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 395 

It is idle to grumble because another is born 
under conditions more favorable to rapid advance- 
ment. The State cannot regulate such a matter, nor 
can its legislation affect many of the other factors 
of life which are the most fruitful sources of com- 
plaint. Pope has said, 

"Men would be angels, angels would be gods;" 

and certainly the philanthropy which some modern 
reformers teach seems based upon angelic principles, 
and can be realized only when the people are, as a 
whole, translated into an angelic sphere. 

It may be fairly asked. What real reason for dis- 
content exists at the present time? At no previous 
period in the world's history have the conveniences 
and comforts of life been so great and so generally 
diffused. There is nothing to prevent the lowliest 
from scaling the highest pinnacles of knowledge, and 
so acquiring the most extensive power. They may, 
by the jewels which the exploring mind brings from 
the caves of knowledge, buy their ransoms from the 
twin jailers of the daring heart — **low birth, and 
iron fortune." And yet all these advantages and all 
these possibilities, are not merely in theory such, 
but in practical evidence, and can be pointed to on 
every hand. 

Men of the present age are not more happy nor 
more contented than those who have preceded them. 
It is here, indeed, that we find in all ages, in all 
classes, and in all conditions of men, a true and in- 
disputable equality — the equality of discontent and 
dissatisfaction; for such are the feelings with which 
life seems to have inspired mankind generally. The 



296 SOCIOLOGY 

king on his throne, the prince in his palace, the 
philosopher in his study, the manufacturer, the mer- 
chant, the farmer, and the artisan, without excep- 
tion, has each his particular grievance. A man per- 
fectly contented with his position in life would be 
as great a rarity as the mastodon; and the strange 
thing is that it is those whose positions seem the most 
enviable that are the greatest grumblers. Happi- 
ness, ''our being's end and aim," is a sort of mirage, 
which, while luring us on successfully, avoids our 
possession; so that to all, the raptiu'e of pursuing is 
the only prize that is gained. ''All is vanity and 
vexation of spirit," said the Wise Man of the East; 
and the experiences of mankind generally seem con- 
firmatory of this dictum. 

The literature of the world is replete with the 
pessimistic utterances of its great men, who found 
that the prize which they gained, and which at a 
distance looked so enchanting, was but Dead Sea 
fruit. Lord Byron, in the language of Macbeth, 
compared his life to a "sere and yellow leaf" when 
he was at the height of his fame. Lord Beaconsfield, 
whose phenomenal success in life has been a beacon 
to the ambitious, declared that "Youth is a blunder, 
manhood a struggle, and old age a regret"; and of 
the rest of the men of genius or of power, similar 
evidence of discontent might invariably be given. 

There is something pitiable in such sentiments; 
and the man who can go through life and find that its 
only lesson is that "Man is made to mourn" is de- 
serving of our sympathy, and might well envy the 
philosophy of Cowper's jackdaw. 

The prevalence of such sentiments is directly at- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 297 

tributable to men's disposition to make comparisons. 
These are always, as Mrs. Grundy wisely remarked, 
"odious" things, and are by no means comforting. 
Jack compares himself with his master, or with some 
other Jack's master, with results perfectly satisfac- 
tory to himself, but all together irreconcilable with 
the positions in which, by the verdict of the world, 
he finds himself placed. 

The bantam cock that thought the sun got up to 
hear him crow was modest when compared with the 
estimate of their own importance which the ma- 
jority of men form. Men's actual ability and worth 
are usually so very different from their exaggerated 
conceptions of them that we might all well exclaim, 
in the language of Scotland's bard, 

"O wad some power the giftie gie us, 
To see oursels as ithers see us." 

Undoubtedly others can form a more correct 
opinion of our merits and demerits than we ourselves 
can; and as it is impossible to assume that there is a 
conspiracy organized to repress and underrate any 
particular individual, we shall be tolerably safe in 
accepting the verdict of the world as a just and a 
true one, unbiased or uninfluenced by any personal 
considerations. Each individual may therefore rest 
assured that in this world he will receive full value 
for any marketable qualifications which he may pos- 
sess; but he must not be disappointed if he does not 
manage to get them accepted at his own valuation. 
This, being so unreliable, owing to the activity of the 
"personal equation," is set down in favor of the 
juster estimate of his fellow men, which usually dif- 



298 SOCIOLOGY 

f ers so widely from his own tliat he is amazed at their 
obtuseness and discredits and disbelieves the ac- 
curacy of their judgment. As, however, he has no 
power of insisting on his own appraisement's being 
admitted, and as he has no means of compelling con- 
formity to his opinion on that particular subject, the 
natural result is discontent and unhappiness, and a 
settled conviction in too many cases that it is nothing 
but the dullness of others that prevents him occupy- 
ing a better position — unless, indeed, when he favors 
the other absurd conclusion that it is dread of his 
rivalry that induces his superiors to discountenance 
his advancement. 

In my opinion, there is no really clever or capable 
man who does not ultimately find his proper position 
in the world, while there is no power that can for long 
succeed in keeping a dullard from sinking to his 
level; and while this to many may be a disagreeable 
doctrine, it would be much better to adopt it grace- 
fully than to go whining through life on the suppo- 
sition that others, less deserving, are more lucky than 
oiu'selves, and so to live miserable in the constant 
contemplation of how happy we might have been had 
the world not been so slow to recognize our worth. 

Had even om* fondest expectations become reali- 
ties, is it not only possible, but highly probable, that 
our real comfort and happiness would have been no 
greater. We do not depend upon external conditions 
for the possession of these. Our mind is our empire; 
and with contented thoughts we may have that re- 
pose which is unknown to the head that wears a 
crown. And it is here that we may and do have an 
equality which is indisputable. 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 299 

Just as the various substances in nature have 
various capacities for heat, so the various human 
beings have various capacities for enjoyment, due 
to the difference in their receptive powers ; and it is 
conceivable that a standard could be formed for de- 
termining the conditions most favorable to the hap- 
piness of each. This, however, would require an 
exactitude in knowledge of antecedents and of en- 
vironments which would be difficult of attainment; 
but if undertaken by a disinterested tribunal with 
power to conmaand the necessary data, it is highly 
probable that the finding in the vast majority of cases 
would be that they are in the position most conducive 
to their happiness. 

In our differences, therefore, we discover a truer 
equality than any that could be induced by an anni- 
hilation of all varieties. The standard of each is 
determined by his surroundings, and the law of evo- 
lution insures man's adapting himself to every 
change of circumstances; so that all external inequal- 
ities are compensated for. This enables us to under- 
stand something of the Divine equity, and to realize 
that the true philosophy of life is to disregard the 
extreme dissimilarity of conditions which is insep- 
arable from social existence, and to recognize that 
we may live happy and useful lives where we are; 
and believing in that *' Divinity which shapes our 
ends," we may feel convinced that if our occupation 
of another and higher position would be conducive 
to any good purpose, we shall find ourselves gradu- 
ally drifted to it, without any anxious efforts on our 
part. 

Above all, we must bear in mind that the most 



300 SOCIOLOGY 

successful life is not necessarily the life that is one of 
constant advancement in wealth and power, but that, 
on the contrary, the life really worth living is more 
commonly that of htm who can with sincerity adopt 
the language of the old poet who wrote : 

'*My conscience is my crown; 
Contented thoughts my rest. 
My heart is happy in itself; 
My bliss is in my breast." 



V. Dreamlands. 

The human race has never been left without its 
prophets, priests, and kings. To every age, and in 
every clime, there has come the voice as of one crying 
in the wilderness, *' Prepare ye the way, make 
straight the path for the perfect State which we 
foresee." Long before the Christian era, discontent 
with social arrangements prevailed; their inperfec- 
tions and inequities were discussed and the condi- 
tions of an ideal and perfectly happy state were out- 
lined. The '^Eepublic" of Plato equals, and prob- 
ably transcends, the most elevated thought of mod- 
ern times on world reform; and indeed, it is possible 
that all our most valuable ideas on the subject have 
had their source in the old pagan philosopher. 

No doubt the standard which the idealistic have 
persistently kept before the world has contributed 
somewhat to the continued progress of mankind and 
the continued amelioration of the lot of humanity in 
general; but it must not be forgotten, nor the fact 
underrated, changing environments, — changing the 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 301 

necessities of existence, — would be inconsistent with 
the permanency of conditions ; and the amount of im- 
provement would be determined by the actual re- 
quirements of the circumstances, rather than by the 
teachings of the schoolmen. 

, The lofty conceptions of the virtuous few might 
season mankind, but it would be the actual wants of 
practical life which would give tone to the age ; and 
nothing that is widely different from the thought of 
the people at large is likely to influence the immedi- 
ate remodeling of society. The dreamlands of world 
improvers are always occupied by "enlightened and 
carefree men," and so have no parallel in actual life. 
We can only imagine the conditions, and theorize on 
how they might be attained; and consequently it is 
not wonderful that the visions of the various dream- 
ers should be widely different. 

Some have seen as in a glass darkly a State in 
which all things have been held in common, and 
where to require was but to stretch forth the hand 
and possess. The practical difficulties in the way of 
the adoption of such a scheme seem insurmountable, 
and in the highest degree undesirable. Painted by 
an enthusiast, nothing but universal happiness and 
content are shown. The former capitalist relieved 
of the care to which his wealth gave rise; and the 
worker forever exempt from the anxiety as to what 
he shall eat on the morrow, or wherewithal be 
clothed, knowing that State attendeth to these things, 
— are both left free to put forth their best efforts for 
the general weal. 

Is it, however, consonant with our experience 
that in the absence of all incentives to labor, men in 



302 SOCIOLOGY 

general attain their highest rate of efficiency? Is it 
not, on the contrary, the almost universal conse- 
quence of having no necessity to work that indolence 
is generated, and discreditable habits are acquired? 

The socialistic scheme is envolved naturally from 
this communistic one, and is in many respects its 
superior. It recognizes with a fair degree of accu- 
racy the main factors of the problem, admits the in- 
equality of man, and does not advocate equality of 
rewards or community of goods, but, on the contrary, 
desires desert to be the deciding factor in the appor- 
tionment of recompense. 

It is thus a much less objectionable scheme, and 
has succeeded in enlisting under its banner many of 
the purest and best of mankind, who, with all the 
fidelity of ancient crusaders, have girded on their 
armor and pledged their lives, their fortunes, and 
their honor to the destruction of the gross wrongs 
which, as they have convinced themselves, prevail. 

The fundamental error in both cases is identical, 
and consists of the belief that government can at- 
tend to the interests of individuals better than the 
individuals themselves can; and so far does this fal- 
lacy permeate the opinions of those desirous of re- 
form, that it is almost assumed, though not stated in 
so many words, that a governmental enactment could 
create the wealth necessary for aU to live in affluence. 

How different the actual facts are, it is scarcely nec- 
essary to stop to indicate; but there can be nothing 
more apparent to anyone who will for a moment re- 
flect on the subject, than that government can spend 
only the money which it collects out of the pockets 
of the people, minus the salaries of an immense staff 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 303 

of officials, who are usually irresponsible, and fre- 
quently inefficient and wasteful. Any money to be 
raised for a given purpose must come from the 
people ; and its collection is likely to press most hard 
upon those least able to bear it. 

There is in this direction no creative power pos- 
sible to be vested in the government; and the expe- 
rience most common is not that governments are 
guided by any superior wisdom in their action. The 
ordinary — and sometimes more than ordinary — 
amount of human fallibility is evinced by them; and 
there is, as a rule, not any very striking approxima- 
tion to what is called divine justice and equity in 
their general practices. Economy in management is 
not, with them, usually conspicuous except by its ab- 
sence. This being the case, it is difficult to see what 
advantage could be secured by State intervention in 
the managing of personal affairs. But we shall deal 
with this point more fully when we come to discuss 
the provisions of Bellamy's dreamland, "Looking 
Backward." 

The pertinent question at present is. What bene- 
fits could be derived from the adoption of the so- 
cialist's scheme? Are we not, under existing condi- 
tions, rewarded in general according to our deserts'? 

True, it may not always be in accordance with our 
own opinions of our merits ; but may that not be quite 
as much due to our overestimating as to others' un- 
derestimating them? Having given services to the 
community, valued by it in proportion to the services 
of others at a rate which enables us to acquire a sur- 
plus, how could it possibly conform even to the 
crudest conceptions of justice to have that surplus 



304 SOCIOLOGY 

trameled by governmental restrictions, in our method 
of expending, of hoarding, or of transferring*? 
Would such enactment be conducive to the obtaining 
of that superior service which insert contributes to 
material progress ? Let us face the facts, and admit 
that restraints so unnatural would sap industry, de- 
stroy the inventive faculty, and restrict scientific in- 
vestigation; for the numbers who pursue any work, 
manual or mental, solely for the love of it, are in- 
finitesimal compared with those who are animated 
by the desire to attain to the reward which 
awaits pre-eminence. A cooperative commonwealth, 
in the modern acceptation of the term, is now very 
generally advocated, and is looked upon as the most 
feasible solution of the problem of practical life. 

Cooperation is, of course, co-existent with asso- 
ciation. It is the cohesion which binds society to- 
gether; and consent to it, tacit or otherwise, is a con- 
dition indispensable to the continuance of social life. 
In its original meaning, men co-operated for the fur- 
thering of the interests of their own communities; 
but their individual interests were always their pri- 
mary object. Their individual interests, however, 
never are or can be inimical to the general interests, 
so long as not actively opposed to the rights of the 
other members of community. 

It is now sought to extend the meaning of the 
term; to make it include the recognition of an iden- 
tity in individual interests, and to admit nothing but 
the general well-being as a sufficient justification for 
action. The State is to produce aid to distribute all 
goods under a central power controlled by the people 
themselves, instead of by individual capitalists, as 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 305 

at present. The advantages to be gained are repre- 
sented as being enormous; but if allowance is made 
for the interest necessary for the use of the funds, 
and if the expenses of management are provided for, 
the difference to the people at large would be 
inconsiderable. 

The scheme is by no means an untried one, for 
many years have elapsed since practical form was 
given to it by the Scottish reformer, Robert Dale 
Owen; and since his time it has been in operation in 
several districts, — ^but it does not seem to be gaining 
ground. 

The inherent defects of the system are easily real- 
ized. For each person to have an interest in the busi- 
ness, so far from reducing the friction, increases it. 
Envy grows stronger; and none can see either the 
necessity or justice of his occupying a place of drudg- 
ery or of ordinary work. 

After the disbanding of the American army, the 
country was filled with its former Generals, Colonels, 
Majors, Captains and Lieutenants; but there was 
none who liked to admit that he had served in the 
ranks. The same feeling of self-glorification would 
make the men of cooperation workshop *^all mas- 
ters, and no men." Wages could not be increased; 
since, if they should be made economically higher, 
their purchasing power would be no greater — indeed, 
it might be less, owing to an increased cost of pro- 
duction, involving a larger capital, on which interest 
would be no greater. 

The recognized management of such a concern 
would have before it a task such that the most con- 
simamate tact could scarcely discharge satisfactorily. 



306 SOCIOLOGY 

^'No man can serve two masters;" but under these 
conditions an effort would have to be made to serve 
two or three dozen masters, and the result would 
hardly be conducive to even temper or high moral 
conduct. In productive employments, the plan has 
always been found destitute of advantage to work- 
men, but very favorable to co-operators. Such men 
as Mr. Holyoake attribute this more to the seem- 
ingly benevolent capitalist's hampering the boons 
with such conditions as destroy its efficacy, when, 
indeed, they can be accepted at all with credit. 

In the case of distribution of products, there do 
not seem to be necessarily the same inherent defects ; 
but it is a matter of notoriety that private enterprise 
can successfully compete with any co-operative 
store. The latter is rarely managed with the strict 
care and economy which characterizes the former. 
It is also frequently subject to the peculation of un- 
faithful servants, or to their bribery by interested 
competitors. The shareholders are usually too little 
conversant in business as to be able to control ef- 
fectively the official in charge; and if he is a first- 
class and faithful man, he may be so harrassed with 
their interference as to retire in disgust. 

The consequence is, that permanent success rarely 
attends such ventures; and at the best, the possible 
advantage to shareholders is the proportion of the 
profits made by the store, which is never so great as 
to counterbalance the risk and trouble incurred. The 
same money, placed in almost any other bona fide 
business, would yield an equal return, with greater 
immunity from risk, and with an entire absence of 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 307 

the trouble, worry, and uncertainty which are the 
inseparable concomitants of the scheme. 

Probably no more effective attempt at depicting 
actual life in its real state has ever been made than 
that of Bellamy, in *' Looking Backward." He 
therein conceives the conditions which would exist 
did the dreams of the purest and most disinterested 
of mankind become realities, and demonstrate to the 
satisfaction of Julian West how the national plan 
would eliminate entirely the unamiable traits of life 
in the nineteenth century. For the purpose of con- 
sidering the details of the scheme he formulates it 
is almost unnecessary to mark on the brief siesta 
which Julian West enjoyed, compared with the amaz- 
ing transformation scene which took place. Cer- 
tainly it is one of the most remarkable of scenic 
conceptions. 

If his dreamland is a possible reality, it is 
immaterial whether, for illustrating the details of 
its working, he assumes one or ten centuries to 
elapse. We may, however, in passing, be pardoned 
for expressing surprise that, considering the brief 
period that is supposed to have passed, the records 
of the nineteenth century and the manners and cus- 
toms of the people are so little preserved that the 
elucidation of them is elevated to something like an 
antiquarian research. No doubt this is considered 
the padding necessary for the easy running of the 
story, and necessary also to form a sort of peg on 
which to hang those sapient criticisms on our system 
which were so freely indulged in by the benevolent 
Dr. Leete. This wealthy, learned clown, when he 
visited Lady Friendly, was delighted to find in Sir 



308 SOCIOLOGY 

Thomas so well-read a gentleman that their opinions 
on classical subjects were identical; but the value of 
Sir Thomas's confirmation of his views was consid- 
erably depreciated by that unfortunate edition of 
Xenophon in the library, which proved to be only a 
board with leather and gilding, made to represent 
the works of that classic author. 

In the same way we are led to submit that Dr. 
Leete's triumph in argument over Mr. West is due 
not so much to either the soundness or unassailabiUty 
of his theories as to the latter 's entire ignorance of 
the whole questions brought up for discussion at the 
dinner table. The safety vault, with its securities 
and gold, are the mountings of the piece, and lend 
reality to the assumption that if the new order of 
things were established the present capitalists would 
be its most ardent converts, although they appear to 
be the ones that would be most injuriously affected. 

We say most injuriously affected; but all would 
suffer by the change which would destroy man's 
noblest attribute — self-reliance — and would seem 
that all should be drilled into mere automatons, to 
dance to whatever tune the State might elect to play. 

The industrial arena into which all ranks are 
pressed, regardless of their tastes, is a bold concep- 
tion; and we can only regret that, after having its 
formation so elaborately described, we are not 
treated to a glimpse of its practical working. This 
is a most significant omission, which leads us to the 
conclusion that its actual operation defied even the 
genius of Bellamy to paint. 

The only operator, indeed, to whom we are intro- 
duced is that exemplary waiter who conducted him- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 309 

self in so dignified a manner at the Doctor's dining 
table; and that leads to the remark that attending to 
the wants of the inner man seemed the main work 
of that ideal State. 

One cannot but sympathize with the worthy Doc- 
tor in his eulogy on the perfection to which they had 
brought the culinary art; but at the same time he 
showed a wise discretion in not introducing his guests 
to the kitchen where the feast was prepared, since, 
considering the magnitude of the task, a perfect Bed- 
lam of confusion must have prevailed. 

Even in an ordinary restaurant the preparation 
of dinner for a few dozen is not accomplished with- 
out taxing the temper and patience of the attendants ; 
but what would it be in so gigantic an establishment 
as is presented by Bellamy, in which the whole dis- 
trict dines, not table-d'hote, but each according to 
his own taste and in his own private apartment. 
Imagination fails us in trying to conceive the feat; 
and while we may admire its comprehensiveness, we 
deny the possibility of its accomplishment. 

Each member of the State, in Bellamy's scheme, 
is possessed of exactly the same income — man, 
woman, and child — no matter what contribution to 
the general well-being of the State may be made ; and 
a wholly novel standard by which to judge their 
worth is erected. No longer are we to estimate the 
value of conduct by its effect on the community at 
large. Henceforth the only claim to merit is the in- 
tention or inclination of the performer. A man may 
undertake a task for which he is altogether incom- 
petent; but if he conscientiously endeavors to per- 
form it he is more deserving of credit than he who, 



310 SOCIOLOGY 

with an aptitude for it, gives greater results, but does 
not exercise himself so faithfully. 

No autocrat ever exercised the arbitrary power 
which is vested in this ideal State, with its neces- 
sarily hydra-headed management. The child is re- 
moved from the parents' control and rendered inde- 
pendent on them from the earliest time. Its educa- 
tion is conducted by the State, and its labor is sub- 
ject to State control. For twenty-one years school is 
attended rigorously, and a learned education is ac- 
quired; but on the arrival of the faithful time each 
is enrolled in the industrial army. No question as to 
what task he is most competent to perform is asked, 
but for three years he is compelled to follow those 
menial and unskilled employments to which his at- 
tainments surely would not qualify him. We are, of 
course, assured that the word menial has no longer 
any significance, owing to the conception of perfect 
equality, and to the fact that the most ordinary tasks 
are as requisite as the more refined. 

Would such a training qualify men better for the 
tasks of life than our present system? We know 
practically that the best way in which to disqualify 
men from the following of manual or mechanical em- 
ployments is to defer starting them in these until 
they have reached something like mature years. The 
habits are then formed, and it is impossible that any- 
one who has attended a collegiate course till that 
time would gracefully become a waiter or a road 
sweeper. It would be the most refined cruelty to in- 
sist upon his being one, in view of the manner in 
which they had been educated. 

After the expiration of the three years, the indi- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 311 

viduals in Bellamy's scheme are permitted to select 
some skilled trade, to which they become appren- 
ticed at the age of twenty-four. This special trade 
is no better paid than any other, no matter what 
skill or talent its pursuit involves, and naturally we 
should imagine that the most agreeable and easily 
acquired trades would receive a surplus of volun- 
teers. This would be the inevitable consequence if 
the theoretical perfect equality of reward were main- 
tained. A variety therefore is of necessity intro- 
duced; and owing to the impossibility of having the 
remuneration take a monetary form the expedient 
is made of equalizing advantages by extending or 
reducing the hours of labor and of minimizing thus 
the attractiveness of the one avocation and increas- 
ing that of the other, which is naturally less agree- 
able. This is but a clumsy substitute for our own 
practice, which offers its rewards in strict accord- 
ance with the value of the services to the commun- 
ity. 

The business of the administration, however, is 
to see t>"at there is always an ample supply of volun- 
teers for each employment; and, consequently, a 
close watch is kept on the rate of volunteering to 
each, and constant modifications of the conditions 
appertaining to each takes place, so as to preserve 
an equality among them. 

These modifications would seem to us unjust to 
those who are already following a given trade. They 
have been induced to join it by its apparently greater 
attractiveness; and when their choice is made, and 
no retreat is possible, the conditions of employment 
are so changed as to deprive them of the advantages 



312 SOCIOLOGY 

which they have reckoned on receiving. An entire 
absence of permanency in arrangement is foreign to 
our conception of a possibly happy and contented 
State, and there would certainly be greater discon- 
tent arising from continued compulsory alterations 
than exists under our own regime, in which the 
rewards of labor are left to adjust themselves natur- 
ally, and depend upon society's own estimate of the 
worth of the services. 

A still more remarkable thing is that in so ideally 
perfect a State such provisions are found necessary. 
This does not confirm Dr. Leete's somewhat inflated 
boast that the organization of society no longer ''of-j 
fers a premium to baseness." Human nature had 
evidently not changed, and the greatest care had to 
be exercised in order to prevent the possibility of ad- 
vantages being taken by one over another. 

Where could the Board be found in such a State 
who would use their power impartially? And how 
would they estimate the value of their own service 
as to time? 

The doctor informs Mr. West that if any occupa- 
tion was so arduous and oppressive that, in order to 
induce volunteers, the day's work in it had to be 
reduced to ten minutes, it would be done. 

None but a dreamer could conceive of occupations 
being carried on under such circumstances. So great 
a relay of workers would be requisite, and there are 
few works in which another can take up the task 
where left by his predecessor and carry it on towards 
completion. 

Certainly if each were to devote only ten min- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 313 

utes per day to it, we should be far from expecting 
accurate work. 

The immense industrial establishments which we 
are asked to conceive as existing, each equaling one 
hundred or more of our present private concerns, 
does not seem at all feasible. We know that the 
greatest drawback of our moderately large estab- 
lishments is the distance which men have to traverse 
before entering upon their work; but under the sup- 
posed conditions those distances would be so greatly 
increased that it would be scarcely practicable to 
have the men conveyed to and from their work. The 
women in Bellamy's scheme are entirely relieved 
from the burdens of housework, and are made to con- 
tribute in other and more effective as well as more 
agreeable ways to the common weal; but with a con- 
venient disregard for details we are not informed 
how the former can be altogether dispensed with, 
nor how the latter can be accomplished. 

There is a general statement that the washing is 
done at public laundries, the cooking at public 
kitchens, and the making and repairing of wearing 
apparel in public shops. But surely the various op- 
erations are not performed without workers ; and so 
far from such an arrangement's reducing the amount 
of work to be accomplished it would increase this. 
A whole army of carriers would be necessary to carry 
the required articles to and from various establish- 
ments, and an immense number of clerks to record 
the particulars of the goods, etc., belonging to or re- 
quired by the householders. The success of the gen- 
eral cooking at public kitchens would be impaired or 
destroyed during the conveyance to the houses, and 



314 SOCIOLOGY 

possible collisions might be expected in the bustle 
attending the operations which would take place, 
presumably, for all families at the same hour. 

According to the ideas prevailing among the in- 
habitants of this wonderful dreamland, none of our 
present methods of conducting the work of the world 
is right in fact. When not morally wrong it is stupid- 
ly inefficient. The very motives by which mankind 
are now influenced are assumed to be base, and most 
elaborate precautions are taken to nullify the possi- 
bility of anyone's obtaining an advantage over his 
neighbors. 

Labor is not compulsory; it is inevitable, says 
Dr. Lette; and to refuse to work is to be shut off 
from humane society. The only extra reward which 
can be obtained for it is the esteem of your fellows; 
and the measurement of worth is not results, but in- 
tentions — a much less reliable standard. 

It is also a ladies' paradise that is offered; for, 
being altogether independent of men, women are per- 
mitted absolutely equal rights, even to proposing 
marriage. 

There is no moral objection to this; but it might 
prove embarrassing, and it is so foreign to our ideas 
of etiquette that we are appalled at the prospect 
which it would hold out to us. 

It is unnecessary to follow the worthy doctor 
through all his comparisons of the nineteenth and 
twentieth centuries. Suffice it to say that, viewed 
from his standpoint, the scheme which he eulogizes 
has much of what is admirable in its construction. 
It does not, however, alter the inherently unequal 
conditions of men, and their distinctively different 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 315 

rewards. In fact, the common error of all social re- 
forms is very pronounced, and that is the belief that 
it is in external circumstances alone that happiness 
is possible. Nothing, in reality, has less to do with 
the matter; and the woman may occasionally — fre- 
quently, perhaps — enjoy the comfort and content- 
ment which are denied to him who wears a crown. 

The economic theories advanced by Bellamy's 
book are not likely to become popular. It is a gen- 
erally accepted axiom that nothing really goes to 
waste; but we are here informed that in our indus- 
trial system there are four great wastes resulting 
from leaving the conduct of industry to irresponsible 
individuals. To the ordinary mind there does not 
seem any consistency in this assumption, since in the 
other portion of the book we are informed it was 
the weight of responsibility consequent upon the 
management of capital and labor that made existence 
in the preceding age not worth having. If men did 
not feel responsibility when the immediate effects 
concern themselves and their families it would 
scarcely be very active in a State where no undesir- 
able consequence could result from mismanagement, 
so long as the bulk of the contemporaries were satis- 
fied that the intention was not blamable. 

The first waste mentioned is that of mistaken un- 
dertakings. The assumption is made that the pro- 
jector of a given enterprise had no general view of 
the fields of industry and consumption; but this is 
entirely unfounded. No man enters upon any enter- 
prise without having a fairly accurate knowledge of 
the requirements of the community in relation to it; 
and the fact that failure occasionally attends his ef- 



316 SOCIOLOGY 

forts would not be a waste to commumty. It would 
transfer his claim to a given quantum of wealth from 
himself to the community at large. But surely there 
would not therefore be a waste. In fact, the fortunes 
of the individuals inside a State may fluctuate very 
widely in relation to each other at different periods, 
and the State itself may be in nothing the poorer, so 
that the consequence of the error does not impover- 
ish the State but the individual only. The waste of 
competition is still less consonant with the facts, as 
anyone who has considered the laws of industry will 
realize. 

If all men in the same trade would fraternize as 
comrades, instead of regarding each other as rivals, 
there would prevail only monopoly prices for their 
products. The competition which leads to the reduc- 
tion of prices is surely more beneficial to the com- 
munity as a whole than any combination for main- 
taining prices, which would simply give the manu- 
facturers combining a greater relative return than 
was obtained in other trades not federated in the 
same way. 

It is a purely romantic conception that the day- 
dream of the nineteenth century producer is to gain 
absolute control of the supply of some necessity of 
life, so that he may keep the public on the verge of 
starvation. The interest of those providing for the 
wants of the community might be to keep it on the 
verge of starvation were it not for that competition 
which prevails and which insures the conflicting per- 
sonal interest always to bring the prices — not only 
of necessaries but of luxuries — to the lowest point at 
which they can be produced; and any attempt of in- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 317 

creasing this minimum rate would rectify itself by 
inducing further competition in that particular de- 
partment. For the duty is not intrusted to a par- 
ticular class but is open to every citizen who thinks 
that he possesses the necessary qualification. 

The waste from periodical gluts and crises is non- 
existent; there is a cessation of production, but this 
is quite distinct from waste, and it only implies that 
labor has become so effective that continuous exer- 
tion is no longer requisite for supplying all human 
wants. 

True, there are some who cannot use more than 
they obtain; but they are not able to give such a re- 
turn of service to society as to enable it to produce 
for them. The fourth waste indicated by the good 
Doctor was that of idle capital and labor. The fact 
that capital is idle is simply an indication that there 
is accumulated a greater amount of it than can be 
usefully employed. 

The devices which have accompanied civilization 
have greatly increased natural productiveness, and 
have so facilitated the growth of population, but 
there is a limit to this; and it is in consequence of 
this limit's being reached that capital becomes inop- 
erative, unless when new fields of enterprise are 
opened or unless valuable inventions are introduced, 
which for a time will ease the depression that is 
inevitably comes to a densely populated country. 
Capital is therefore not wasted in such cases; it is 
not consumed, and so it is not necessary to be re- 
placed; and so it receives, while in this state, no 
interest. Labor is not wasted; there is a surplus 



318 SOCIOLOGY 

over what is required, and that is practically 
valueless. 

It is immaterial whether a certaiQ number go 
without employment and are supported by those 
who are working, or whether all are employed for a 
shorter period, and receive the same amount in the 
aggregate, but less individually than the present 
workers. There is no evading the relentless dic- 
tum that "The poor ye shall have with you alway." 

A national system of co-operation would com- 
pletely destroy individual responsibility, by remov- 
ing all incentive to industry; human character would 
be dwarfed by the removal of its noblest feature — 
self-reliance; energy would be sapped, and men 
would become little better than automatons. An 
indolent and degenerate race would succeed the 
present active and enterprising generation. The 
knowledge that, under 'the new order of things, all 
were assured of a sufficiency of the good things of 
Hf e, irrespective of personal effort, would result in a 
diminution of the desire of discovering improved 
methods; scientific investigation would languish; and 
the retrogression of humanity would be inevitable. 

Besides this, if those for whose especial benefit 
the scheme is devised had it fairly explained to them, 
they would join in denunciation of it. Tell those 
who at present earn a livelihood by casual work — 
and the number of these in large cities is by no 
means inconsiderable — that in future they will not 
be permitted to live this free and easy existence, but 
must confine themselves to some certain vocation for 
which by temperament they are very unsuited, and 
will they unite with you? Tell those who at present 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 319 

are supported by the enforced charity of the fairly 
prosperous, without exertion, that henceforward they 
must return in work an equivalent for their main- 
tenance, and will they consider this an improvement 
of their condition? This indeed is an essential differ- 
ence between the ** national plan" and the plan now 
existing. The former does not intend to support any 
but those that will be compelled to contribute to the 
welfare of the community; while at present we sup- 
port vast numbers who do not labor. 

Economically, the latter is the correct method, 
since pauper labor would quickly disturb the bal- 
ance of trade and, so far from elevating any, would 
reduce all to the level of paupers. 

The conclusion which must be reached in respect 
of all those dreamlands which philanthropic econo- 
mists have depicted, is that they would require so 
much of minute arrangements, so much would have 
to be compulsory and so much (if harmony were to 
prevail, or justice to be maintained) would depend 
upon voluntary action, that their successful adoption 
on this side of the millennium cannot be conceived as 
practicable. 

VI. Progress and Poverty. 

Mr. Henry George's book on ''Progress and Pov- 
erty" was deserving of all the popularity that it at- 
tained. Written by a warm-hearted and generous 
man, with all the wealth of diction that unquestion- 
ing belief in the verity of the new factor of social life 
which he had discovered could inspire, it is in no way 
surprising that it possessed many remarkable 



320 SOCIOLOGY 

features. Not the least noteworthy of these was the 
iinboTinded confidence evinced in the power of his 
panacea to revolutionize life, and the scornful and 
unqualified condemnation of nearly all previously ac- 
cepted canons of political philosophy. 

The message which he had for humanity, and 
which, he had absolutely no doubt, was one of peace, 
was fraught with doctrines decidedly original, 
enunciated in a decidedly novel manner, and advo- 
cated with a fervor which often trenches on dog- 
matism. The language of the book, always ornate in 
the extreme, is frequently a model of that vigorous 
expression which originates in the certainty of being 
in the right, and in the enthusiasm which results 
from an unhesitating conviction of having solved 
the problem which had baffled all former inquirers 
in the same field; in having found for humanity at 
large the narrow way out of that labjT^inth of pov- 
erty which had been the fruitful source of the sin and 
suffering of the race. No man ever saw more clearly, 
or painted more vividly, the misery in which large 
masses of men exist. No man ever saw more clearly 
through the shallowness and inefficiency which char- 
acterize the remedies which other thinkers on social 
subjects had propounded with an enthusiasm in their 
sufficiency not inferior to his own. No man, how- 
ever, believed more implicitly in his own remedy, or 
denounced more emphatically the barriers which pre- 
vented its adoption. He spurned with contempt al- 
most all the remedies which had before been advo- 
cated; and he demonstrated, in brief but unmistak- 
able logic, their fallacies. It is certainly an interest- 
ing mental study to observe the keenness which is ex- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 331 

hibited in demoKsMiig the pet projects of others, and 
the entirely insensibility to any possible factor 
which may weaken his own theory, or in practice 
invalidate it. 

The fact that practical results seldom conform 
exactly to theoretical expectations did not suggest 
any disquieting apprehensions to his mind; and the 
spectacle of innumerable errors to which, as he 
proved — to his own satisfaction, at any rate — that 
even the acutest intellects that have adorned our race 
had given their sanction of authority, did not make 
him doubt either the correctness of his premises 
or the accuracy of his conclusions. 

The factors of the problem of social life are, ac- 
cording to him, increasing wealth and increasing and 
intensifying poverty — and this in despite of the fact 
that the State, within its boundary, possesses more 
than enough to satisfy all; men, women, and children 
starving or forced into crime or dishonor to escape 
the pangs of hunger, while at the same time the nec- 
essaries of life are abundant in the community; num- 
bers huddled together in small, scantily-furnished, 
unsanitary garrets, while there are in the district, 
and unused, ample areas for comfortable, healthy 
dwellings; wealth the most magnificent, poverty the 
most intense, jostling each other on the highway and 
in the street; and this, too, without apparently any 
inherent difference in the physical, mental, or moral 
capacity of the representatives of the two classes. 

There is reason for supposing that the existing 
differences amongst humanity are not inherent, but 
that they are simply the product of the different en- 
vironments, for which the individuals themselves are 



323 SOCIOLOGY 

in the main very little responsible. This fact leads 
naturally to the conclusion that they do not exist 
by any decree of the Creator, but are the result of the 
unjust system of appropriation of natural resources 
which has been concurred in by humanity in general, 
and the consequent inequitable distribution of the 
products of labor. There is just enough truth in this 
representation of the prevailing condition of society 
to form the basis of a popular creed; and so we are 
not in any way astonished to find that it quickly out- 
distanced all other reforms, and won numerous con-- 
verts. On every hand the truth of the premises ap- 
peared to be shown, and even the most implacable 
opponent of the Georgite doctrine must admit that in 
every great enlightened and progressive city of the 
world we find not only wealth, luxury and culture, 
which characterizes civilization, but also the deepest 
poverty, the lowest degradation, and a distortion and 
perversion of intelligence which is worse than the 
crude ignorance of barbarism. 

The poverty, too, is of a kind unknown in the 
barbaric state. It is the entire exclusion from the 
sources from which sustenance can be directly 
drawn; and it is this that is held to constitute the 
peculiar hardships of civilization. The fact is, that 
under the modem system of co-operative production, 
in which masses of men live in association, human 
labor obtains a very high rate of efficiency and can, 
without undue effort, produce more than enough to 
satisfy in a luxurious manner the wants of all. But 
this does not confer the advantage which theoretical- 
ly it should. This is owing to the fact that a certain 
number of men have acquired a right to the surplus 



SOCIAL SCIEN-CE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 323 

goods, the consumption of which, under the modern 
conditions of life, is a necessary precedent to repro- 
duction. These men, relatively few, are therefore in 
the position of controlling absolutely the production; 
and — in theory, if not in practice — ^life itself, with 
the majority, depends upon the caprices of such men. 
In civilized society it depends not so much on a man's 
ability or desire to work as on his being able to ob- 
tain an advance of the essentials of existence from 
those in whom it vested the ownership of the natural 
resources of the country, and those who possess its 
reserve funds. 

In short, in the language of Burns, 

*'He has to ask his fellow worm 
To give him leave to toil." 

before he can exercise his powers productively. 

This aspect of the case, when emphasized without 
regard to the other factors of the problem of social 
life, has an undoubted appearance of iniquity; and 
any doctrine which holds forth a reasonable prospect 
of doing away with the seemingly iniquitous system 
is assured of popularity. 

The antidote offered by the Georgite theory is to 
be found in the omitted factors, which indeed contain 
the essence of the whole subject. Nature unculti- 
vated is not sufficiently bountiful to sustain the vol- 
ume of life at present on the globe, and it is to man's 
power of realizing and availing himself of favoring 
circumstance that we are indebted for the obtaining 
of the necessaries of life for the numbers which are 
supported on the cultivated area. 

In the earlier stages of human existence, when 



324 SOCIOLOGY 

natural resources are unappropriated, vast areas are 
populated by relatively small numbers, who obtain 
the necessaries of life without difficulty from the 
spontaneous productions of nature; but as a conse- 
quence of not cultivating, or assisting nature, or ma- 
king provision for future contingencies which are 
constantly experienced, the greatest hardships — and 
for all the starvation point — are unceasingly within 
measurable distance. To such an extent is this the 
case, that under primitive conditions population, 
which is the certain index of material prosperity, is 
practically stationary; and the deliberate destruction 
of the aged and infirm — and in fact of all incapable 
of preserving themselves — is frequently resorted to 
by barbaric peoples. 

That such an expedient should be found necessary 
imder conditions where the purest theoretical equal- 
ity undoubtedly prevails, with an entire absence of 
the appropriation of the material properties, is the 
most conclusive evidence of the inability of nature to 
provide, without the assistance of man's labor, for 
all possible inhabitants. Even with the most rigor- 
ous system of improved cultivation, her capacity to 
support life is limited; and it is the proximity of na- 
ture's limit which in all stages of existence causes 
the struggle for survival. The expansion of the limit, 
which is due to human devices, is not indefinite; and 
no matter what the wealth that may be stored, as 
soon as population begins to press on the means of 
subsistence, the natural and intense struggle for sur- 
vival begins to be specially experienced. That its 
effects have been postponed, and the volimie of life 
so greatly increased, is due to man's improvements 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 335 

and adaptation of means to ends; and precedent to 
all these has been permanency of occupation, without 
which progress and invention would be non-existent. 

Permanency of possession denies, indeed, to the 
later comers the right of appealing directly to nature 
for support; but in an absence of the restriction, 
their presence at all would be impossible. We are not 
now concerned with the much-discussed question as 
to whether existence is such a boon as to be particu- 
larly grateful for. Suffice it to say that the vast ma- 
jority of those possessing it appreciate it, much as 
they may grumble; and few there be who willinglj^ 
seek to escape from it. Poverty is co-existent with 
man's being; but in the primitive state, it is the most 
grinding and intense. There is not only poverty of 
material goods, but of mental attainments. In cer- 
tain directions it may be urged that primitive peo- 
ples possess qualities superior to those of civilized 
man; and it cannot be denied, so far as adaptability 
to their particular circumstances is concerned. But 
what a wealth — not only of material goods, but of 
accumulated knowledge and experience, of mental 
compass and adaptability — does the latter inherit. 
It is this wealth, which is a creation of civilization, 
that is its most important characteristic ; and it is due 
entirely to an appreciation of the necessity of utiliz- 
ing and adopting to his needs the particular circum- 
stances by which he is surrounded — which is the out- 
come of association, and which reaches its highest 
position in the most advanced stages of society. 

It does not, indeed, eliminate poverty from the 
world, but it insures all being proportionately better 



326 SOCIOLOGY 

provided for than would be possible under natural 
conditions. 

Civilization progresses, and is distinguished, in 
its course, not by an increase of poverty, but by its 
proportioned diminution. Every improved method 
introduced for accomplishing work reaches neces- 
sarily the arduousness of toil in all classes, and leaves 
whole classes free to devote their time, their energy, 
and their intelligence to the investigation and exten- 
sion of the sum of knowledge. 

The appearance of reason in the doctrine that 
poverty is increased only by material progress con- 
sists in the sharp contrast into which it brings the 
extremes of society and which to on-lookers makes 
life to some appear not worth living. It must not be 
forgotten, however, that the standard of comfort 
differs in each class ; and it is only by applying that 
which is applicable to the highest to the condition 
of those in the lowest rank that we are led to believe 
that misery and unhappiness are the constant com- 
panions of most. 

In reality, the good-natured philanthropist gives 
himself a world of unnecessary trouble on the sub- 
ject; and if he were practically acquainted with the 
inmost thoughts and feelings of those whom he most 
commiserates, he would probably find their state as 
little to be deplored as his own. The professional 
man glories in his successes, and in his prominence 
among his brother professionals ; the merchant, in the 
extent and profitable nature of his business; the 
manufacturer, in the magnitude and superiority of 
his operations ; the honest workman, in his work and 
in the satisfaction of duty well done; the pests of so- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 327 

ciety, in the successful eluding of justice and in the 
very impunity and guilt which have characterized 
their depredations. The different classes, as a rule, 
have no real sympathy or appreciation of the stand- 
ard to which the others tacitly subscribe ; and while 
the denizens of the slum may compare their material 
circumstances disadvantageously with those of the 
affluent, they are utterly incapable of understanding 
the different mental attitudes that counteract the 
effects of the more favorable surroundings. Just as 
little can the affluent realize the attitude of the out- 
casts of society, which enables them to extract a full 
measure of happiness from what to the former ap- 
pear to be intolerable circumstances. The question 
is altogether one of adaptability; and no beneficial 
results can ever accrue from comparing the lot of 
those whose environments educe irreconcilable qual- 
ities, and consequently whose comfort, so far from 
being conserved, would be irretrievably destroyed by 
establishing a sameness of externals. 

The most of the unhappiness and discomfort in 
the world exist not on account of dissimilarity of for- 
tune, nor among any particular class of the commun- 
ity, but is originated and perpetuated by the jealousy 
of those possessing an average of knowledge and a 
great amount of sensitiveness of others whom they 
consider more particularly favored, while in reaUty 
less deserving than themselves. The consequence is 
that there is less real misery in the lowest class of so- 
ciety than in any other, because there is more of the 
pachydermatous in their nature, and so they are more 
invulnerable to the caprices of ^Hhe fickle jade," 
Fortune. 



328 SOCIOLOGY 

It is interesting to note that tlie arguments on 
wMch the author of ''Progress and Poverty '^ de- 
pends for establishing his theory, and for destroying 
the teaching of the classical economists, are the sub- 
ject: "High wages [the mark of a relative scarcity 
of labor] must be accompanied by low interest [the 
mark of the relative abundance of capital] ; and, con- 
versely, low wages must be accompanied by big in- 
terest, if the current teaching of political economy 
is accurate." 

That, however, is not the case, he informs us, but 
on the contrary interest is high where wages are high, 
and low where wages are low. In impartially consid- 
ering the case with the view of getting at the truth 
rather than of buttressing a theory, the first point to 
be considered is the state of the society to which the 
arguments are to be applied; for it must be self-evi- 
dent that what will be true in regard to a congested 
State, and to one which has reached a high standard 
of attainment, will necessarily be equally valid for 
one just emerging from barbarism, and having still 
to perform works of improvement which change the 
face of nature, but which are now^ the necessaries of 
civilized society. Such a State, with its sparse popu- 
lation and crude appliances, if it can obtain the ad- 
vantages of the use of the accumulated capital of 
previously settled districts, will be able to pay for it 
a high rate of interest; while at the same time labor 
will also receive a high return, owing to the fact that 
the number of laborers available is scanty, and that 
the discomfort and inconvenience attendant upon life 
in that State is so great as to restrict immigration 
in that State is so great as to restrict immigration, 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 329 

The factor there is not only scarcity of laborers, 
but also scarcity of suitable objects for the employ- 
ment of capital — the two factors wanting in older 
countries, where the modification of nature to the re- 
quirements of humanity has continued for so long 
that there remains but little outlet for the expendi- 
ture of capital. So much is this the case in long-set- 
tled countries that the limits of industry would be 
reached were it not for intercourse with the more re- 
cently exploited lands, to whom they send mechan- 
ism and finished products in exchange for the nat- 
ural produce which the latter can so abxmdantly 
provide. 

In old countries, therefore, the relatively low 
rate of wages prevails, not on account of a scarcity 
of capital, but by the reason of the few suitable open- 
ings for its employment. This fact also makes the 
rate of interest low. The value of labor is also de- 
preciated by the fact the numbers seeking employ- 
ment are disproportionate to the work to be done, and 
the consequent competition depreciates the rate of 
labor beyond the natural value; and though there are 
still open to humanity vast tracts of territory to be 
brought under the influence of civilization and culti- 
vation, there are comparatively few that have been 
accustomed to the conveniences of modern society 
who will voluntarily exile themselves and undergo 
the privation and danger of being the pioneers of 
new colonies. 

The high rate of interest paid by new countries 
for capital, therefore, is seen to be the natural con- 
comitant of a big rate of wages, just as low wages 
and low interest distinguish and are inseparably con- 



330 SOCIOLOGY 

nected with long-established communities. New 
countries nowadays are always exploited by the capi- 
tal drawn from the old, where it has no outlet; and 
those who have the courage and energy to leave their 
home and friends can there secure a better remunera- 
tion at the expense of the many disadvantages which 
attend life in a new country. 

VII. Looking Forward. 

Having, now, for a period roamed with some de- 
gree of freedom through the romantic dreamland of 
those disinterested philanthropists who have no 
doubt honestly desired to leave the world better 
than they found it, we may again descend to the 
region of actual life, and endeavor to discover the 
goal which humanity may attain. It will be well, 
however, to summarize briefly and succinctly the 
conclusions to which our investigation has tended. 

The idea in view — ^no matter how imperfectly we 
may have developed it — ^has been that the state of 
society, as existing, is not only the natural one, but 
is the only possible one at present. This thought 
originates in a consideration of human history and 
development, and in a knowledge of human nature 
which can be verified by each inquirer. The char- 
acteristics of our existing system which are appar- 
ently equitable, and which, consequently, are spe- 
cially attacked by reformers, exist by reason of the 
hitherto-unquestioning acceptance of principles that 
are inseparable from association. 

In the complexity of the civilized state, an analy- 
sis of the essentials of society — which few popular 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 331 

reformers take the time to make — is necessary to 
the recognition of what they really consist of, and 
of their imperativeness; but in their earlier stages 
they are realized, and are accepted, intuitively. The 
principles are those of individual freedom and jus- 
tice, which no one would care knowingly to oppose; 
but as yet the laws of social intercourse are so little 
appreciated that doctrines destructive of these prin- 
ciples find acceptance and advocacy from many who 
would shrink from being identified with an open 
attack on them. Freedom in a social state is differ- 
ent from natural freedom, owing to the tacit agree- 
ment — which existence in the State implies — ^^of ob- 
serving the rights of your neighbor with the same 
exactness with which you guard your own; and while 
government, therefore, is not restricting true free- 
dom by insisting on restraining everything inimical 
to the general welfare of the community, where this 
is conserved individual freedom must not in any way 
be curtailed. 

Bearing in mind the saving clause, we find that 
the essential principles demand that each individual 
shall be permitted to exercise his powers in the way 
most conducive to his own welfare ; and that absolute 
protection in the enjoyment of the results of indus- 
try must be assured before he will begin to accumu- 
late those reserves which are indispensably neces- 
sary to progress, or even to existence, in association. 

Paradoxical as it may seem, it is only when the 
reserves become very extensive that any hardship is 
experienced; and it is then due quite as much to the 
fact that the adaptation of nature to the wants of 



33^ SOCIOLOGY 

man is approaching its limit, extended as this may- 
be by the discovery of improvements. 

A new invention may for a time ease the pressm.'e 
by introducing a fresh outlet for capital, and, a plan 
for bringing new territory under cultivation will 
have the same effect; but there are not illimitable 
possibilities, and the struggle for existence becomes 
intensified when population continues to increase 
while the means of its support are diminished. 

To confer on each person the absolute right to 
deal with the fruits of his own toil, leads to a con- 
dition in which the reserves are possessed by the 
comparatively few who have what has been called 
the effective desire of accumulation largely devel- 
oped in their nature. The offspring of such are in- 
troduced into the world under the most favorable 
circumstances, not only in respect of material goods, 
but also in regard to inherited habits of frugalitv and 
thrift. 

This transmission of the results of past inequality 
often causes the existing conditions of men do be 
entirely inrreconcilable with their apparent mental, 
moral, or physical differences; and discontent arises 
spontaneously out of the hardships which many en- 
dure through no fault of their own, and the super- 
fluous luxury which others enjoy without any special 
deserving of it. Still, there is not in this any in- 
equity, since a constant intermingling of classes 
occurs in our free country, so that anyone possessing 
real merit is likely to find a market for it and, like 
Claude Melnotte, to purchase his ransom from *'the 
twin jailors of the daring heart — low birth and iron 
fortune." 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 333 

Interference with the laws of exchange of labor 
is unnatural, and is as destitute of advantage; for 
when it is exercised in all departments of industry, 
it simply means a permanent increase in the price of 
all commodities. And if only a few are included in 
its operation, the followers of the particular employ- 
ment which may be affected will enrich themselves 
at the expense of the other members of the com- 
munity. To be able to continue to do this must in- 
terfere with individual liberty by forbidding the 
numbers drawn by the favoring conditions to enter 
the favored ranks; and so it would compel these to 
adopt vocations for which they have less aptitude, 
thus inflicting a real wrong on the community by 
depriving it of services which, if men were left free 
to select work according to personal inclination, 
would have a much higher rate of efficiency. 

The direct tendency of the scheme is to establish 
caste distinction, owing to the unwritten rule of 
accepting as apprentices to given trades only the 
sons of the men at present following those trades. 

This at first sight seems a just arrangement; but 
it is difficult to conceive how popular favor can be 
extended to anything possessing to so large an 
extent the elements of real slavery. 

The proposed remedies of the assumed inequities 
of social life, while expressive of sentiments in every 
way creditable, originate in that dangerous thing, a 
little knowledge of the subject. They deal exclu- 
sively with the most superficial aspects of society. 
Whatever advantage might be gained in a given 
direction by their introduction, would be counter- 
acted by their evil effects in others, since social forces 



334 SOCIOLOGY 

act and react on each other in such equal and appo- 
site directions as to maintain the status quo of 
advantage. 

That the conditions of existence in civilized so- 
ciety seem improved, is due to our different require- 
ments of existence, and to the different standards 
which we have erected; nevertheless, conditions have 
become rudimentary which made existence in the 
earlier period quite as tolerable as it is now, with all 
its education, refinement and power. The happiness 
and contentment of the people, though in some cir- 
cumstances inseparable from surroundings, are by 
no means indissolubly connected with them, since 
adaptability and adjustment of means to end enables 
man to extract in most cases the essentials of desir- 
able life from whatever externals. 

The cause of the periodical depression in trade 
is overproduction — though the popular teacher of 
political philosophy will immediately demolish this 
statement, to his own and his hearers' satisfaction, by 
saying, "Overproduction of whaf? Of bread, while 
men and women — aye, and little children — starve'? 
Of shoes and stockings, while thousands have none 
to wear? Of clothing, while many go shivering along 
our streets for want of clothes to shield them from 
the piercing blasts' 

We cannot deny that these interrogatories cor- 
rectly represent the facts of social life, irreconcilable 
as they must appear with the statement that there 
is overproduction which causes social troubles. 
Under the at-first favoring conditions of civilization, 
the race increases in so rapid a ratio that the 
numbers begin to be disproportionate to the suste- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 335 

nance possible to be raised in the immediate area. 
Even the most careful and arduous labor will not 
secure from the soil supplies to keep pace with the 
multiplying population; and the consequent compe- 
tition for what is produced leads to the survival and 
propagation of those most fitted for the conditions 
of life. It does not, however, immediately eliminate 
those who are not so well qualified, but reduces them 
to the least favorable positions, and this in propor- 
tion to their adaptability. The grades, or strata of 
society are therefore determined by the qualities of 
those who favor them; and as these can never be- 
come uniform, such grades or strata must, so far as 
human prescience goes, continue while time shall 
last. 

The competition which is induced by the increas- 
ing difficulty of obtaining a livelihood is far from 
being disadvantageous; for, being equally active in 
all departments of life, it gives to the workers in 
cheapness of goods what it deprives them of by 
cheapening their labor. Besides this, it sharpens 
the intellect, and makes men resourceful, active and 
self-reliant, if they are to be successful; and where 
these qualifications cannot be induced, it renders 
their existence less desirable, and so tends to dimin- 
ish the numbers of that class which is to be produced. 

The evolution of the species to higher and still 
higher levels must be through this source ; and as the 
requirements of life become more exacting, the dross 
of humanity finds existence increasingly difficult. 
And just in proportion to the progress of the most 
intellectual, does their comparative condition be- 
come, to all appearance, more miserable. 



3^6 SOCIOLOGY 

THat humanity is destined to be continuously 
progressive, is a proposition which may be advanced 
with the greatest confidence, despite the fact that 
research into the history of antiquity discloses a 
higher degree of attainments among the inhabitants 
of the ancient nations than that which the subse- 
quent barbaric conditions into which the nations 
sank would lead us to expect. 

Reflection on this may lead to the conclusion — 
which indeed has been often expressed — ^that there 
is nothing in our civilization so essentially di:fferent 
from what prevailed in ancient times as to render 
certain that retrogression may not again take place, 
and that after we all shall have attained a certain 
standard disintegration may ensue, and anarchy and 
despotism for a time become supreme, after which 
the cycle of improvements then may reappear, and 
all complete its unvarying course. 

We cannot see any reason for giving our adhe- 
sion to this theory, because modern civilization 
differs very materially from anything that has pre- 
ceded it. The means of perpetuating knowledge are 
'the most complete, and the portion of the world 
peopled by the European race is of such an extent 
that, unless a cataclasm were to engulf the universe, 
the continuity of attainment would seem to be 
assured. Admitting, therefore, that we are on a 
path of improvement from which we are not likely 
to depart, the question naturally arises. Shall we 
have the poor with us always ? 

We have the very highest authority for answer- 
ing this in the affirmative; but were this not the case, 
what would be the logical deduction from the ob- 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 337 

served facts ? No matter what form of society might' 
be established, rivalry would naturally prevail, owing 
to the disposition of each to secure for himself the 
most elevated position. No one would voluntarily 
perform the menial offices of social life, and they 
v/ould naturally devolve upon those who had failed 
in competition with their fellows to secure the more 
prominent and honorable employments, and who 
would consequently be forced by the exigencies of 
the case to be "hewers of wood and drawers of 
water," and so to be the poor of that society. Such 
poverty would not be inconsistent with educational 
acquirements, and would perhaps be more the pen- 
alty of individual inferiority than it is at present. 

To make it so, would be the legitimate duty of the 
State. Without transcending its proper function, the 
State may take under its care the education of the 
people. This, while not attempting the impossible 
task of establishing an artificial equality, will still 
give to each a more nearly equal start in life. No 
attempts at making the individuals exact counter- 
parts of each other, or of restraining the natural 
powers or aptitudes, should be made, since there is 
nothing more foreign to our ideas of justice and free- 
dom than would be implied by so extreme a system 
of regimentation. Consequently, the natural result 
of the improved arrangements would be an exalted 
standard of life, but without an appreciable reduc- 
tion of the mmaber of those in menial places, while 
each had an opportimity to qualify himself for the 
highest. 

This very desirable state of affairs is at present as 
nearly as possible approximated by our government, 



338 SOCIOLOGY 

which has shown itself particularly awake to the 
interests of the people at large. To the people them- 
selves, however, we must look for permanent im- 
provements, which will not take place through their 
seizing the reins of government and governing for 
their own especial benefit. If such a course were 
to be pursued, it would not insure a general ameliora- 
tion of the lot of the individual, but would simply 
displace the present ruling body, and establish an- 
other one from amongst the present leaders of the 
people. The new governing body, elated by their 
success, would become as intolerable and autocratic 
towards their former companions as the most super- 
cilious of the aristocrats of the present time. 

The most effective plan, and that to which we 
should strenuously direct attention, is the elevation 
of the standard of comfort among the masses. The 
more we educate, the more we shall contribute to 
this, which is not the least important advantage of 
education. 

By doing this, we shall contribute to keep popu- 
lation within the limits of luxurious subsistence, and 
we shall increase the natural value of all human 
labor by maintaining an equilibrium between the 
work to be done and the workers. Arbitrary exac- 
tions will then be impossible, and the giving of labor 
will come to be considered as important a service 
as the providing of capital. This does not imply 
that it is not so in reality at all times, but only that 
the numbers who are willing to offer it are now so 
disproportionate to the work as to depreciate both 
the market value of labor and the estimation in 
which labor is held. 



SOCIAL SCIENCE AND SOCIAL SCHEMES 339 

To the limitation of offspring and the restraining 
of immigration we look forward, therefore, as the 
true solution of the problem of pauperism. The 
State which contains within itself the means of sus- 
tenance for all its inhabitants without the necessity 
of importing foreign produce, is the only one that is 
not overpopulated; and consequently none of its citi- 
zens would experience the depths of degradation 
which unfortunately are too common in the modern 
State, where the congestion, now partially relieved 
by the exploiting of new areas, is likely to become 
even more intensely felt when this outlet closes — as 
close it must, and as it is closing even now. 

James McClelland. 



QUIZ QUESTIONS 

POLITICAL ECONOMY 



CHAPTER I. 

Page 11. 

1. Define political economy. 

2. What are the four great divisions of political 

economy"? 

CHAPTER n. 

Page 15. 

1. Define production. 

2. Define utilities. 

Page 16. 
1. Define commodities. 

Page 18. 

1. Define wants. 

2. What are the principal factors in production*? 

Page 19. 

1. What is the basis of the private ownership of 

land? 

2. Distinguish between real and personal property. 

341 



343 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Page 20. 
1. What does labor include? 

Page 21. 

1. Classify labor. 

Pages 22-3. 

1. How is the total amount of labor determined? 

2. According to what principles will the increase 

of labor increase the total production? 

Pages 24-6. 

1. State the law of diminishing returns from land. 

Pages 27-35. 
1. State the Malthusian Doctrine. 

Pages 31-3. 

1. What are the principal advantages arising from 

the subdivision of labor? 

2. What are the principal disadvantages arising 

from the subdivision of labor? 

Pages 33-5. 
1. Define distribution. 

CHAPTER ni. 

Page 36. 

1. Discuss the importance of this branch of political 
economy. 

Page 37. 

1. Are the different economic characters ever 

united in the same person? 

2. Illustrate. 

Page 38. 
1. Define rent. 



QUESTIONS 343 

Page 39. 

1. Compare rent and interest. 

Page 40. 

1. What is the underlying principle of rent*? 

Page 41. 
1. Define interest. 
1. How is the amount of interest determined *? 

Pages 42-3. 

1. Define wages. 

2. How are the amounts of wages regulated? 

Page 44. 

2. How are profits regulated? 
1. Define profits. 

Pages 45-50. 

1. Give the principal arguments for and against 
trade unions. 

Pages 50-51. 

1. Give the principal arguments for and against 
the creation of trusts. 

Pages 51-3. 
1. Describe socialism. 

Page 53. 

1. Define taxation. 

Pages 55-7. 

1. Give Adam Smith's four canons of taxation. 

Page 58. 

1. Into what two general classes are taxes divided? 



344 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Pages 59-65. 

1. Define and discuss income taxes. 

Pages 66-70. 

1. Discuss the right of the United States Govern- 
ment to lay and collect income taxes. 

Page 71. 

1. Define a tariff. 

2. What is meant by a protective tariff? 

Pages 72-3. 
1. Discuss the wisdom of protective tariffs. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Page 75. 

1. Discuss the proper place of consumption in the 
science of political economy. 

Page 76. 

1. Discuss the relation between wants and utilities. 

Pages 77-80. 

1. Define diminishing utility. 

2. Define marginal utility. 

Page 81. 

1. What is meant by relative utility. 

Pages 82-3. 

1. Define necessaries. 

2. Define comforts. 

3. Define luxuries. 

4. What will be the order of consumption among 

the three classes of commodities f 



QUESTIONS 345 

Page 84. 

1. What is meant by postponed consumption? 

2. When will this take place*? 

Page 85. 

1. What are the effects of saving upon production 
and distribution? 

CHAPTER V. 

Page 87. 

1. Define exchange. 

Pages 88-9. 
1. What determines value? 

CHAPTER VI. 

Page 91. 

1. What are the principal periods of economic his- 

tory? 

2. Describe the hunting stage. 

3. Describe the pastoral stage. 

Page 92. 

1. Describe the agricultural stage. 

2. Describe the handicraft stage. 

Page 94. 

1. Describe the beginnings of the industrial stage. 

Pages 95-9. 
1. Give a brief account of the early commerce and 
industries of India. 



346 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

Page 100. 

1. Describe commerce of the early Greeks. 

Pages 101-2. 

1. Discuss the effect of the Crusades upon the com- 
mercial cities of Italy. 

Pages 103-135. 
1. Describe the transition period from medieval to 
modern industrial history. 

Page 136. 

1. Describe the industrial condition of England 
prior to what is known as the Industrial 
Revolution. 

Pages 137-8. 

1. What are some of the great industrial achieve- 

ments of the nineteenth century? 

2. Compare the progress made in the nineteenth 

century with that made during the previous 
history of the world. 

Pages 138-9. 

1. Describe some of the effects of the introduction 
of the Factory System. 



QUIZ QUESTIONS 

SOCIOLOGY 



Pages 145-151. 

1. Why is sociology especially bewildering to the 

unscientific student or reader? 

2. Strictly speaking, what is sociology? 

3. How old is the science of sociology? 

4. What relation had the laboratory to modern 

sociology? 

5. Why is it not safe to study society from the 

delineations made by novelists? 

6. What are fit subjects for sociological inquiry? 

7. By whom was the word *' sociology" coined, and 

what is its etymology? 

8. Why is a truly Christian spirit of itself insuffi- 

cient for overcoming the ills of the world, 
and what aid does sociology extend to the 
church? 

9. What is meant by "social statics"; by "social 

dynamics?" 

10. What is the scope of Herbert Spencer's Soci- 

ology? 

11. How is the development of society portrayed 

by Small and Vincent? 

347 



348 SOCIOLOGY 

Pages 152-156. 

1. What is an organism? 

2. How did Thomas Hobbes portray society as an 

organism? 

3. How did Menenius Agrippa portray society as 

an organism? 

4. What is the aim of sociology, and what errone- 

ous impressions are generally held in refer- 
ence to it? 

5. Mention a notable sociological institution in 

America. 

6. Mention two classics in English literature 

which are valuable for sociological inquiry 
as well as for literary study? 

1. Mention two notable classics in which the 

horror of solitude is portrayed? 

2. What is a social unit? 

3. What is a social group? 

4. What is a primary social group? 

5. What is the verdict of nature as to monogamy 

and polygamy? 

6. Is there a present need for re-study of the prob- 

lem of the authority of the family? 

7. What are social aggregates? 

8. What are social organisms? 

9. Are the boundaries of the social aggregates 

definite ? 

10. How is a social organism differentiated from a 

social aggregate? 

11. What three classes of social organisms are 

designated by Herbert Spencer? 



QUESTIONS 349 

Pages 160-164. 

1. What are some of the essentials of fitness for 

sociological investigation? 

2. Name five of the subjects presented to be 

studied for investigation in a small com- 
munity? 

3. What is said of the relative conditions to be 

encountered in a large community and in a 
small community? 

4. What benefit has been derived and is to be 

derived by the sociological activities of the 
present in the United States? 

Pages 164-165. 

1. Mention five notable books on sociology, and 
indicate the country in which they were 
published. 

Pages 166-170. 

1. What was the notable work of Florence Night- 

ingale ? 

2. How does the author apply the principles of her 

work to the police system? 

3. How does he apply it to charity? 

4. How does he apply it to industry? 

5. How does he apply it to schools? 

6. How does he apply it to other social organisms? 

Pages 171-173. 

1. What does the author say of the essential con- 

nection between effective philanthropy, mo- 
rality or civil progress, and industrial con- 
ditions ? 

2. Is this relation casual? Is it conditioning? 



'350 SOCIOLOGY 

3. Wiiat is the first principle of philanthropy? 

4. Upon what are personal and civil safety and 

progress dependent? 

5. What is the need of sociological study in this 

connection? 

Pages 174-182. 

1. What dilemma do the clergymen, moralists, 

educators, and publicists face in each gen- 
eration? 

2. What does the writer designate as the ** Golden 

Age" of the individual? 

3. What is the leading characteristic of this age? 

4. What office have school and cniu'ch often failed 

to perform for the individual of this age ? 

5. What does the author say is more important to 

the individual than the particular form of 
faith professed? 

6. What does she say of the Jewish faith? 

7. What does she say of the Christian faith? 

8. What example does she find in the State Indus- 

trial Insurance of Germany? 

9. What does she say of the possibility of uniting 

the members of various churches in a com- 
mon effort to meet the requirements of our 
industrial life? 

10. What does she say of the old-time religious sanc- 

tions in the present generation? 

11. What does she believe the influence of a high- 

class drama to be ? 

12. State her characterization of six dramas of the 

present time. 



QUESTIONS 351 

13. How does she characterize the present period of 

history? 

14. What does she think of our present progress in 

the new civilization? 

Pages 183-196. 

1. What can you say of the purpose of the Russell 

Sage Foundation? 

2. Mention three important classes of activities 

which are within its scope. 

3. Mention three of its early activities. 

4. Mention three lines of research undertaken 

by it. 

5. What is said of the adaptability of the Foun- 

dation? 

Pages 197-252. 

1. What extended illustration is given of the prac- 

tical application of sociological methods? 

2. What were the two subjects studied by the 

Associated Charities in the City of Washings 
ton in 1905? 

3. State five of the aims and methods. 

4. How is an office of the Associated Charities dis- 

tinguished from a relief station? 

5. What is the value of the facts recorded in its 

investigation? 

6. When does the inquiry begin, and how is it con- 

ducted? 

7. Where does the investigation generally begin? 

8. Upon how extensive a study of returns are the 

conclusions of the investigation based? 

9. How is a family regarded in making this study ? 



353 SOCIOLOGY 

10. Were natives or foreigners found to be more 

dependent as a class? 

11. Were white people or colored people found 

more dependent as a class? 

12. How does tlie author describe the '' derelicts of 

society," and how does this illustrate nega- 
tively the value of association? 

13. What was the average size of the family receiv- 

ing relief? 

14. Was the charity family, therefore, considered 

smaller or larger than the normal family? 

15. Was the percentage of children greater or less 

than that of adults in the charity population? 

16. In what stages of childhood was relief most 

largely needed? 

17. Were the females, as a class, more or less depen- 

dent than the males as a class? 

18. Was desertion of husband or wife more fre- 

quent among the white or among the colored 
people ? 

19. What was the influence of divorce shown to be 

among the charity families ? 

20. What was noted of the occupations of the 

charity recipients? 

21. What is said of the range of occupations pre- 

sented? 

22. In the long list of occupations studied, were 

there many or few classes of people? 

23. In what sense does the writer here use the word 

classes ? 

24. What was the most significant item in the 

investigation? 

25. What was found to be the most potent factor in 



QUESTIONS 353 

driving people to seek charity? What was 
next? What was next"? 

26. What is said of the distress arising from the 

arrears of rent? 

27. What does the writer say of the various kinds 

of debt owed by the dependent ? 

28. In how large a proportion of the families aided 

was there no delinquency whatever on the 
part of the members? 

29. What were the three leading delinquencies dis- 

covered? 

30. What was the attitude of the charity relief 

toward mendicants? 

31. What was found to be more troublesome than 

mendicity itself? 

32. What was found to be the influence of personal 

pride? 

33. Why should not the word inefficiency be com- 

monly used to characterize the causes of 
poverty? 

34. What is the relation of illiteracy to poverty? 

35. Did irregularity of employment receive careful 

study? 

36. What does the writer say of the "financial ele- 

ment?" 

37. What does the writer say of the complication 

of causes of distress ? 

38. What does the writer say of the insufficiency 

of labor? 

39. What does the writer say of persistent causes 

of distress? 

40. What does the writer say of contributory or 

indirect causes of distress? 



354 SOCIOLOGY 

41. What was the proportion of charity cases which 

marked only a brief period of adversity? 

42. In the list of deep-seated persistent causes, 

what element was shown to be surprisingly 
increasing*? 

43. What were the proportions of temporary, inter- 

mittent, and permanent causes of distress? 

Pages 253-265. 

1. Are philosophers and thinkers united as to the 

existence of a science of society, with definite 
and consistent laws? 

2. What is the contention of those who reject 

sociology as a science? 

3. In the author's opinion, to what is the rejec- 

tion due? 

4. By what is our construction of laws for any sci- 

ence determined? Is it possible, then, to 
assert any absolute and final laws in any 
branch of science? 

5. Does the fact constitute a valid objection to 

sociology as a science ? 

6. What are the limitations of our knowledge of 

historical facts? 

7. What fundamental principles underlie all hu- 

man conduct? 

8. Are there more advantages or more disadvan- 

tages springing from the selfishness of man? 
Illustrate. 

9. How are the great, self-sacrificing men of his- 

tory to be regarded? 
10. What does the author say of the Joseph Sur- 
faces of society? (See Dictionary of Fiction). 



QUESTIONS 355 

11. What is said of schemes for remodeling the 

world, and establishing happiness, content- 
ment, and perfect justice? 

12. Is there any single remedj^ that will suffice for 

the cure of the evils of society? 

13. What work does the author set out to accom- 

plish? 

14. What iirst impression does he expect his doc- 

trine to make? 

15. What does he say of the attitude which the 

sociological inquirers should assume? 

16. What is your estimate of the importance of this 

attitude? 

Pages 265-278. 

1. What does the author say of the residium in a 

chemical analysis? 

2. How does he apply the figure to society? 

3. How does he conceive that the identity which 

was present among the units of original 
society was differentiated into diversity of 
types. 

4. Of what are our conceptions of right and 

wrong largely the result? 

5. What influences does the author characterize as 

the triple chord which binds men? 

6. Of what is each individual the resultant? 

7. From what classes of persons do the majority 

of the proposed social reforms emanate? To 
what are these persons not amenable? 

8. What does the author say on the subject of 

heredity? 



356 SOCIOLOGY 

9. What influence must be taken into considera- 
tion to modify the plasm theory of Weis- 
mann? 

10. Is the assumed greater power of heredity over 

environment, as held at the present time, 
justified by human experience ? 

11. To what is the great advancement of the pres- 

ent age to be especially ascribed? 

12. What is the vantage ground"? 

13. Can the primal instinct of self-preservation 

always be relied upon? 

14. Can the wisest men always predict with cer- 

tainty how in any instance man would act? 

15. If not, what is the explanation? 

16. What does the author say of the right to inherit 

property? 

17. What does he say of impossible Utopias? 

Pages 278-289. 

1. What is assumed by the majority of writers on 

the evolution of the social state? 

2. To what common conclusion do we arrive 

regarding the biblical and scientific explana- 
tion of our origin? 

3. What would cause the first group of our family 

to form a confederacy? 

4. What would be the first and most important of 

the articles of the social compact? 

5. Was the supposed social compact originally 

devised by men in a formal meeting, and in a 
definite form? If not, how did it come to be 
recognized and accepted? 



QUESTIONS 357 

6. What may be supposed to have been the second 

article of the original social compact? 

7. From what did the differentiation of employ- 

ments of men in the primal association 
result? 

8. What would be encouraged by the introduction 

of a system of exchange other than barter of 
the original actual products of labor? 

9. To what does the exchange value of our employ- 

ments tend? 

10. What is said of the labor in which men can most 

readily engage ? What is the reason for this ? 

11. Why are the earnings of professional men 

greater than those of unskilled laborers? 

12. What conditions would be necessary to make 

the rewards of labor in all cases practically 
equal? 

13. What does the author say of the element of 

chance or accident in the success of men? 

14. What course does the author say will fail to 

eliminate poverty, sin and misery? 

15. Has the evolution of man been rapid or slow? 

16. To what must we always look for any improve- 

ments in the lot of human beings in general? 

17. What does the author hold to be necessary for 

the salvation of men? 

Pages 289-300. 

1. What are the historical shibboleths of popular 

democracy? 

2. In what does true liberty consist? 

3. From a given standpoint, do all three of the 

shibboleths express incontrovertible truths? 



358 SOCIOLOGY 

4. Are two individuals ever circumstanced exactly 

alike? 

5. Do the experiences of human life allow us to 

see harmony or equity therein? 

6. Would the leveling of all ranks and the com- 

munizing of property be a true remedy for 
the existing inequality of men? 

7. Could a condition thus secured endure? 

8. Are men of the present more happy and con- 

tented than were those of a previous time? 

9. Are the utterances of remarkably successful 

men apt to be optimistic or to be pessimistic ? 
10. Is the individual apt to form a just estimate of 
the value of his own work? 

Pages 300-319. 

1. What is the author's estimate of the ^'Eepublic 

of Plato" as compared with the more ele- 
vated thought of the present time on the 
subject of modem reform? 

2. From what is the socialistic scheme evolved, 

according to the author? 

3. What does he say as to the character of many 

socialistic leaders? 

4. What does he deem their fundamental error 

to be? 

5. What does the writer say of the principle of 

cooperation? 

6. How is the meaning of cooperation sought to be 

extended by the socialists? 

7. Have socialistic experiments ever been made on 

any considerable scale? 



QUESTIONS 359 

8. What has been the general result of attempts to 

realize social schemes'? 

9. Why does the author deny the possibility of a 

successful realization of Bellamy's scheme? 

10. What objections does he find to the plea for the 

education of children, in Bellamy's scheme? 

11. What is the principal objection the author finds 

to the application of the scheme to the work 
of trades? 

12. What does the author declare to be the great 

error of all social reforms? 

13. Is there any evading of the dictum, ''The poor 

ye have always with you"? 

14. How does the author summarize, in conclusion, 

his reference to the dreamlands depicted by 
philosophers and economists? 

Pages 319-330. 

1. What is the author's estimate of Henry George 

as a man? 

2. What are the factors of the present social life, 

according to Henry George? 

3. Is the poverty encountered in civilized life of a 

kind unknown in a barbaric state ? 

4. What factors in the case are omitted by the 

Georgite theory? 

5. Is it a fallacy that poverty is increased only by 

progress ? 

6. What is the fallacy of the assumption made as 

to the standards of comfort among the differ- 
ent classes? 

7. Can there be over-production while many are 



360 SOCIOLOGY 

unhappiness and discomfort in tlie world to 
be due? 

8. What is Henry George's theory as to the rela- 

tion of wages to interest on capital! 

9. What do the classical economists teach as to 

this relation? 
10. What does the author hold to be the fallacy in 
Henry George's theory as to this relation? 

Pages 330-339. 

1. Accepting society as it is, what do essential 

principles demand for each individual? 

2. Is it true that the adaptation of nature to the 

wants of man is approaching its limits, 
despite the discovery of the new improve- 
ments ? 

3. What influence has the inheritance of property 

upon the highly-favored inheriter? 

4. Are the inequalities of society at the present 

time likely to be transmitted for a long time 
in the individual family? 

5. Is interference with the laws of labor wise, 

and does it really advance the interests of 
society? 

6. What is the cause of periodical depressions in 

trade? 

7. Can there be over-production, while many are 

suffering from want? 

8. Is the competition in obtaining a livelihood dis- 

advantageous on the whole? 

9. Have we good reason to believe that progress 

may not in time give place to retrogression? 



QUESTIONS 361 

10. What is the author's argument as to this? 

11. What is the author's most effective plan to 

secure progress? 

12. What two things does he present as the true 

solution of the problem of pauperism? 



INDEX 



POLITICAL ECONOMY 

A. 

Agricultural Stage 91 

C. 

Claesi Controversies 45 

Comforts 83 

Commodities 16 

Consumption 13 

Place of in Study of Political Economy 75 

Order of 82 

Postponed 84 

D. 

Dark Ages, Economic Conditions in 104 et seq. 

Economic Errors in 104 et seq. 

Diminishing Eeturns from Land 24 

Diminishing Utility 77 

Direct Taxes 58 

Distribution 13 

Definition 13 

Scope of Division 35 

Importance of 35 

Effects of Saving Upon 85 

E. 

Economic History, Period of 91 

Economics, see Political Economy 11 

Exchange 13 

Definition 87 

Mediums of 89 

363 



364 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

F. 

Factors in Production 18 

G. 

Greek, Commerce, Early 100 

H. 

Handicraft Stage 92 

Hindus, Commerce and Industry of 95 

Hunting State 91 

I. 

Income Taxes — 59 

Indirect Taxes 59 

Industrial Revolution 136 

Industrial Stage 94 

Interest 41 

Italian Cities, Effects of Crusades on 101 

L. 

Labor 20 

Classifications of 21 

Productive 21 

Unproductive 21 

Application of 22 

Division of 31 

Labor Unions 45 

Land 19 

Law of Diminishing Returns from 24 

Luxuries ^ 82 

M. 

Marginal Utility 78 

Maltliusian Doctrine 27 

Mediums of Exchange 87 

Modern Industry 137 

Monopolies 50 

N. 

Necessaries 82 

Nineteenth Century, Achievements of 138 



INDEX 365 

P. 

Pastoral Stage 91 

Political Economy, Definition of 11 

Divisions of 11 

Postponed Consumption 84 

Production 12 

Defined 15 

Factors in 18 

Effects of Saving upon 85 

Profits 44 

Protective Tariffs 71 

Effects of 73 

K. 

Relative Utility 81 

Rent, Definition 38 

Theory of 40 

S. 

Socialism 51 

T. 

Tariffs 71 

Taxes, Classification of 58 

Direct 58 

Indirect 58 

Income 59 

Power of United States to Lay 66 

Taxation 54 

Canons of 55 

Trasts 50 

F. 

Utilities 15 

Utility, Diminishing 77 

Marginal 78 

Relative 81 



366 POLITICAL ECONOMY 

V. 

Value, Definition 88 

What Determine? 88 

W. 

Wages 42 

Wants 60 



H 13 84 ' 



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